Black Velvet Smile
by Pixieblade
Summary: There is a prophesy whispered about in the darkest recesses of the Academy of Magical Studies. No one knows how old it is, or even if it's true. If questioned directly most will find an excuse to change the topic or leave the room altogether.
1. Oneshot

**Black Velvet and a Little Boy's Smile**

58/MA  
AN: It's a bit snarky. :)

For Saiyuki Kink Meme IV: Prompt: Hakkai/Gojyo, sex magic ritual, bondage and sensory deprivation

There's a fine line between White and Black magic according to the Covenant of the Rising Sun's third treaties with the Underworld. It has nothing to do with pain, or blood, or even death; you see, it's not the effect that determines if a spell is 'good' or 'bad', but the intention behind that spell; are you doing it for personal gain? This would be 'bad'. Philanthropic endeavor? That would be 'good'. Doing a _favor_ for a friend who would rather bite his own tongue off than admit that you were right that conjuring that Earth Demon was a bad idea and whom you just couldn't resist saying 'I told you so' to with the head of the Wizard's Council standing behind you without your knowledge and therefore getting stuck being the unlucky sod out here in the Wild Lands where only demons and idiots roamed? That would most assuredly be considered 'bad,' or stupid, possibly both, and more than likely suicidal to boot.

Hakkai sighed dejectedly and shifted his pack a bit higher onto his already bruised and battered shoulders. Hakuryu fluttered around his head, an indignant chirp overhead as he shooed the little white dragon away. He was too tired and too wet to have his familiar shitting on his shoulder today. He muttered under his breath, face half hidden beneath a full, voluminous cloak about Wizard's sons and constipation spells. That would be another 'bad' spell, but at the moment, trudging through the sodden downpour, he was perfectly willing to accept whatever punishment the Gods threw at him for just a bit of revenge. After all, he was already cursed, so what did one more black mark matter?

"Alright, I know, I know. We'll never make it to the Limpid Pool of Time at this rate. Find us some form of shelter, won't you?" he called out, glaring at the sullen grey sky with renewed dislike. Hakuryu warbled softly and swung out to the west. He groaned and turned to follow, of course he would head into the wind and rain, lovely.

"I really am getting rather dark and sullen in my old age, aren't I?" he mumbled to himself, rubbing the palm of his hand into his left eye, hissing sharply at the constant throb the marked orb pounded into his skull.

"Damn you Sanzo." he cursed savagely, surprising himself at the unusual lack of control. He was normally so much better at keeping his emotions under wraps, sometimes to the point of self-deprecation, but his placating nature was what had led him to being one of the top Earth wizards in such a short amount of time without ruffling anyone's feathers. He wasn't even through his first century, a feat only three other wizards could claim, after all!

He ticked the list off in his head, frowning as he wove through dense underbrush while attempting to not lose the small white speck of dragon on the horizon. There was Sanzo who, for some reason only the Gods and the Grand Master could figure out, had become the youngest Light Wizard of the first order and who had managed to summon the most powerful Earth demon in the Council's history to be his familiar. There was the Death Wizard Ukoku, whose name, even three centuries later, was still whispered of to frighten wayward children. Hakkai had managed to locate a single reference to the man that gave a hint about a large, Ox-like demon that the man had managed to summon, but couldn't control and who had, eventually, run amok and which had taken most of the Council fighting as a single unit to destroy. And then there was the Grand Wizard himself, Koumyou, father of Sanzo and rumored lover of the whispered Ukoku. The Grand Wizard had progressed so far through his magics courses and gained so much power that he had transcended his physical body to becoming light itself, merging with his Elemental Guide and becoming an almost God in his own right.

Hakkai sniffled lightly and rubbed a leather gloved hand across his nose, hunkering down a bit farther into his cloak to keep the cold rain water from running down the back of his jerkin anymore than it already was. Yes, of the three of them his power was much less impressive, but that didn't mean he wasn't a sight to behold when he went into full Wizard mode. He knew he presented an interesting image, to say the least, when he summoned a spell or a demon, considering his looks and certain familial attributes, but it was also these things that made his daily life such a chore; that made him plaster on that saccharine sweet fake smile and kowtow to any two-bit street performer with a practiced ease every day of his life.

Sometimes, he really hated being an Earth Wizard.

His blood had brought him more trouble than it was worth most of his life and though he'd never begrudged his family ties to the Sacred Ridges of Carlil before, right now, in the cold and wet with a horrible humor and the beginnings of a chest cold settling into his bones like molten lead, he really hated being the last of his family's 'touched' bloodline. He hated being cursed by the mark of demons, he hated being sent on errands that involved the thrice-damned beings from the Underworld, and he hated Sanzo's smug expression at not having to go himself, but mostly he hated the feel of mud squelching between his toes. The stupid boots he'd bought in that last town had a hole in them around his big toe and Gods did it grind on his frayed nerves to feel the soft suction of the thick, dirty mud cling to his flesh each and every time he took a step farther and farther into their territory.

He _hated_ demons.

* * *

The frozen grass crackled like shattering glass under the heavy tread of his boots. Silver clouds of breath puffed out against the damp fringe of his furred hood as he trudged through knee high drifts of wet powder, the shifting of the stilted breeze causing handfuls of clumped ice and snow to fall from their precarious perches high upon the pointed tips of evergreens and the spindly reaching fingers of bare oaks. He pushed his way doggedly though grasping brier bushes and over treacherous ice melts until the weak sunlight filtered through a break in the dreary over cast sky and a deep emerald green pool glittered up at him. He paused, taking in the bubbling sulfurous liquid and groaned thinking about how nice and warm the water looked; how inviting to his weary body.

He treaded over the thin, creaking ice around the edges and lightly fingered the surface of the water, hissing at the sharp sting of pain the boiling water cause, the tip swelling and puffing up in an angry red welt. He sighed, rocking back on his heels and tried to pull the cold out of the surrounding ice and snow melt; tried to cool the volcanic hot spring…and failed. Climbing to his feet he tossed a rock into the center of the spring and cursed under his breath, damn lot of good it did being a demon when he couldn't even change the temperature of a stupid pool of water.

He tossed another rock and turned away from the water, eyes scanning the horizon, noticing the dark grey line of another storm creeping across the purple smudge of mountains and shrugged dejectedly as he pulled his hood down over dark limp hair. He picked a random direction and started walking, muttering another useless curse as the snow melted underfoot and turned into small rivulets of icy mountain runoff.

He _hated_ spring.

* * *

The cave was deep. Almost a dragon's length in dept and a good six shoulders wide, big enough for a small guard troop if they were so inclined. Of course, considering how far he was into demon territory he was sure none of the human armies would muster out this far. After a thorough exploration of said cave, he hunkered down and set about warding the entrance and setting up a small fire. Green light flared at his fingertips as he gently stroked the last of his tinder into a mossy glow that was completely magical in nature. He sighed and slouched out of his sopping clothes, laying them down by the wan, eerie light to dry over night. Stretching out on a thin covering of mostly dry leaves he used a bit more power to draw some residual heat up through the crackly shale beneath him and reveled as his cursed markings shivered in reaction to the earth surrounding his nude form.

Taking a deep breath to center himself to the energies around him, Hakkai hummed softly under his breath, drawing the warm, pine and fresh turned earth scent that always accompanied his 'drawings' in through his nose and back out through his mouth, his slightly pointed teeth and tattooed skin glimmering in the witches' fire he'd sparked off. It only took a few minutes before all his frustrations, anxieties, and ill-feelings were drawn out of him and he burrowed deep into the shifting sand around him. Finally he was calm enough to sleep.

* * *

Hakuryu chirped happily as he fluttered to the dry, sandy soil of the cave, with a backward glance at his master he wriggled his shoulders and tilted his head, his pale ghostly body shimmering like moon dust as he stretched and shivered, his skin shedding like a snake. He could finally stretch out in peace.

Hakuryu watched his master drape the dripping clothes over a large flat rock outcropping and sighed as he felt the familiar tingle of wards being drawn over the cave's gaping mouth. Not that he was worried about intruders, mind you. Actually he'd prefer a late night snack, but his master hated it when he got bits of people stuck between his canines. Mostly he could swallow them whole, once he was out of his 'travel' mode that is, but every once and a while he tended to bite off something stringy or too big and then his master got all motherly and griped about dragon dentist costs and how he might just be renamed Toothless and he rather enjoyed scaring mortals with his big pointy teeth, so he remembered to not eat after his master brushed his meter length scimitar-esk teeth before bed.

It was too bad though, he was still a bit peckish from that demon tribe they'd stumbled upon two days ago. Fire demons always gave him gas.

* * *

He thought he was dreaming when he finally spotted the faint green-gold shimmer in the darkness. Not that the constant rain bothered him, other than the annoyance of having his hair plastered across his face each time the wind shifted, or having the feel of squelching mud sucking his feet in with each heavy step he took forward. Really, it wasn't all bad; at least it wasn't snowing down here in the valley. He humphed, ducked his chin down farther into his coat and shoved his pruny fingers deeper into his pockets. He could do with a bit of warmth though.

The cave, and subsequent fire, glittering welcomingly across the glade seemed too good to be true, and yeah, he probably should have known better than to just wander in thinking he'd be welcome, but the faint tingling across his skin as he crossed the threshold hadn't, well, you know, blown him up or anything, so he figured it had to be another demon, possibly an earth demon from the faint smell of turned earth and charred wood in the cavern and hey, earth and water demons typically got a long, so what could be the harm. He'd share what little of his dwindling food stores he had left in his pack and in the morning he'd hit the road again.

He sighed wearily as he shucked off his oilskin knapsack and drenched leather jacket, shifting closer to the eerie fire as he shed clothes that seemed as tight as a second skin once wet. He didn't even shy away when he felt cautious eyes following him as he moved about; he simply continued removing articles of clothing until the chill of the night air had been burned off by the fire, thinking all the while what he wouldn't do to stay warm like this forever.

* * *

It was still several hours until sunrise when something dared to approach his shelter. The wards warned him of something approaching, but there was no sense of urgency or darkness attached to their warnings, so he'd ignored it. Hindsight being 20/20 he probably shouldn't have done that this far into the Wild Lands but the _something_ didn't feel like a demon, even though oddly, it didn't feel all together human either. It took him longer than it should have to crack an eye at the something shuffling about on the far side of the cave. Even longer to realize it was a person, a man and one with distinctly demonic family traits on his handsome features, and to move into a more defendable or at least more decently dressed position.

"Stop looking at me like I'm gonna eat you." The man grumbled and shifted closer towards the green flames, hands pulling off his soaked shirt and then lazily combing through long, Dragon's Tongue colored hair. The red was striking, but the glowing ember eyes were what really drew his attention.

"Fire demon?"

The man glanced up, a mingling of disgust and suspicion marring his beautiful face as he scowled at Hakkai.

"Fuck no!" he snorted indignantly and smoothed a hand over a broad chest, long fingers flicking stubbornly clinging jeweled droplets of moisture from its toned form, "Water, and only half at that, so let me just state for the record that nothing on me is worth slicing off and selling at the Blood and Bones Market in Kilkeni, got it?!" his voice was warm and strong, slightly ragged as he growled the unspoken threat.

Hakkai's left eyebrow rose into his messy brown fringe and for a moment he teetered between laughing and crying at the futility of this all. "You do realize your sitting in a warded cave with a wizard and warming yourself by a witches' fire, don't you Mr. Half-water-demon-sir?" he asked patiently, waiting for the facts to coalesce into comprehension.

"Oh. Shit. Yeah well, sorry, from the look of you I figured you were another demon and um…I didn't explode or anything when I came in here." He peered at Hakkai doubtfully, "You sure you're a wizard?"

This time Hakkai did laugh. He laughed harder than he had in the many long months he'd been fighting against the Council and his only friend and the Gods themselves. He laughed so hard tears formed between scrunched up eyelids and he doubled over, collapsing into a heap on his makeshift nest, pine leaves and drying fern fronds faintly covering what little decency he had left.

"Hey, you okay? I mean, you're not crazy or anything, are you?" a concerned voice asked shakily from above him, like he wasn't sure if Hakkai was quite sane or not.

Wiping his eyes he stretched out on the leaves and glanced up into softly glowing red eyes. There was a bit of fear in their deep burgundy depths as he reached out a hand and lightly stroked it down the side of a scared cheek, a frown pulling his lips as he whispered, "The Gods seem to like messing with me it seems. They send me to the Underworld and back to find something I already had and never realized."

The red-haired half-demon hunched over him frozen as delicate vines unwrapped from moon-pale skin with a soft rustling sound and trailed after the fleeting touches of long fingers. Panic was evident on his naked face as he stared down into deep forested eyes and swallowed nervously, "You're not gonna eat me or anything, are you? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I don't taste so good."

Hakkai chuckled and wove his fingers into the thick mane of brilliant hair, his fingers curling around the back of the man's neck and tugging gently until the other was kneeling beside him, "No, I'm not going to eat you. You see I'm not a demon, just cursed by one. I really am a wizard, second rank too, but I have no intention of hurting you. I came here for something particular and with your help I might have just found what I was looking for."

The skittish man licked his lips a few times, his eyes riveted to Hakkai's mouth as he spoke; so elegant, so polished, a lilting accent that made him shuffle closer to the bedside without his realizing it. Something was wrong here, some part of him screamed in his head about something being terribly, terribly wrong. This was a wizard and he was, for all intents and purposes, still a fucking demon and he was pretty damn sure that somewhere there was a big fat rule book for demons stating that the last thing they should do was trust a bloody flaming wizard!

He pulled back just as their lips were about to meet, a groan in his throat and a throbbing prick trapped in his trousers. This was not what he had expected when he stumbled in here tonight.

"Then what were you expecting? You came for a reason, didn't you, Mr. Half-water-demon-sir?" the soft voice mocked him while slightly sharper than normal human nails scratched lightly along the base of his skull.

"Go—Gojyo." He stuttered, "And no, I wasn't expecting to get seduced by a fucking wizard of all people when I saw the light!" he meant to wrench back from the hold but the thoughtful expression in green-eyes trapped him as surely as the still clinging vines.

"You saw the light?" he asked perplexed.

"Yeah I saw the damn light! Why the hell else would I have come in here? I'm a fucking Water demon rain doesn't exactly bother me you know."

"Huh. Well that's decidedly odd then. I'm sure I used Ash and White Oak when I made that fire. It should have been invisible to demons, even half-breeds." He mused while turning from him, completely absorbed in rummaging around in an open pack on the other side of the nest.

Gojyo stared blatantly at the man's naked flesh before him. Granted, he didn't have much of a choice as the wizard was 1) bent over the side with his backside in the air and aimed quite provocatively at Gojyo's head and 2) oh yeah, completely stark naked! Really, if the guy wasn't nutters, Gojyo'd eat his vest.

"Um…wizard-guy…" he tried to glance aside, somewhere, anywhere than the firm white flesh that he was pretty damn sure would fit perfectly in each of his hands and damn it he was not having thoughts like that in a cave with a most likely stark raving crazy-assed wizard but…damn. A demon could admire couldn't he?

"Oh. Oops." The other muttered sheepishly, small claws scratching the back of his neck as he turned back towards Gojyo and held up what appeared to be part of an ash branch.

"'Oops?' What oops?" Gojyo had a decidedly bad feeling about this.

"Ah ha," the man laughed awkwardly, "it appears as though I might have used Rowen instead of Ash when creating the fire. And the name's Hakkai, by the way."

"Rowen." Gojyo's mouth dropped open incredulously as he immediately struggled against the vines crawling their way around his bare chest and arms. "You used fucking Rowen and White Oak when making a _witches' fire?!_" his voice cracked ominously. "That's not an invisibility spell, that's a fucking pleasure spell you idiot! How the hell can you be second ranking and screw-up something that simple?" Gojyo's face burned with a blush as red as his eyes and hair as he struggled even harder against the clingy vines.

"Oh, um. That's not really the part I'm concerned about actually." Hakkai's shaky voice stopped him dead as he turned and, eyes narrowed, peered at the man wearily.

"What do you mean, Hakkai?" he growled.

"Oh, well, I sort of called out for an energy boost after I made the fire. Just um…well…I asked for a more permanent solution to drawing up energy from the ground all the time." Hakkai prevaricated, eyes fixated just to the left of Gojyo's right ear.

"You mean you created a fire to heighten sexual pleasure and summoned a freaking familiar you could feed off of at the same time?! You created a fucking spell for a love slave you jack-ass!" he hissed menacingly.

Again that small self-deprecating laugh and brittle smile, "Yes well, as unintentional as it might have been, you um…well, you did answer it, didn't you?" he asked smugly, gaze traveling lazily over the smooth golden expanse of Gojyo's chest.

Gojyo blanched and then flushed as Hakkai dropped the bag and branch and, animal like, crawled across the nest towards him, a predatory glint in his eyes that made Gojyo's breath catch and cock jump as the haunting green-gold fire seemed to lick across his ivory skin.

"I'm not a fucking familiar." He growled warningly when Hakkai was only an inch away from his lips.

"No. Not in the traditional sense as you're not a full demon or elemental and you're not a slave either. I would never do that to someone…ever." There was a catch to the last word that caught Gojyo's attention and he wondered about the possible implications that fierce rush of hate he felt when the green-eyed man said that word meant, but Hakkai chose that moment to shift just that much closer and then he was basically in Gojyo's lap, their teeth and tongues and lips all mashed together as the vines pinned his arms above his head and Hakkai rocked his hips down onto Gojyo's traitorous lower body.

_Oh hell,_ thought Gojyo as the fire glinted off small fangs and glowed in emerald-black eyes, Hakkai wasn't just some Earth wizard with a shitty memory, he was a fucking _Djinni _cursed Earth wizard. That was worse than any Underworld demon or rouge elemental he'd ever come across and at this rate he was gonna accept the fucking pack with him. _Shitshitshit!_ He really was thrice-cursed as his mother always claimed.

Pulling back by sheer force of will alone he groaned at the loss of contact but had to say something, "Ha…oh_ fuck_…Hakkai, wait, please, you don't want me as a familiar. I can't even do anything about the rain man, my power's absolute shit and okay, I'm not exactly hard on the eyes but seriously, you're a fucking Djinni-man! You can call a much more powerful familiar than me!" he was almost whining at this point. Hakkai drew his fingers up and down his sides, the claws skipping a bit over his ribs and slid down the sharp jut of his hips with a soothing touch that left his skin tingling slightly.

"That's very astute of you to notice my nature, Gojyo, although you are rather mistaken about the rest of it. You see I already have a familiar, a rather powerful one that takes care of me magically and protects me from demons, competition, and other random acts of the Gods."

Gojyo followed the graceful arch of Hakkai's hand as he waved off into the back of the cave where two saucer sized glowing red eyes glared at him balefully while a deep snort and sulfur ridden curl of dark grey smoke wafted out from the back of the dark cave. His eyes going wide as he gasped, "You've got a _dragon?!_" he squeaked.

"Hakuryu, yes, although he normally stays in a much more manageable form," he cocked his head at Gojyo and then over at the gleaming white snout that stood half a man high on its own, "you two should try to get along, we'll be together for a while it seems."

"There's no way I'm hanging out with you two for any length of time, I don't do dragons and I _don't_ do wizards." Gojyo insisted.

Hakkai sighed softly and leaned back on his hands, a soft plop as he settled down into the nest. "Gojyo…Do you really think if I could make a pact with a dragon that I'd be out here in the Wild Lands looking for a quick lay?"

Gojyo flinched at the crude descriptor, "Then why the hell are you out here?"

Vines fluttered over his skin tenderly, one trailing along his cheek as they withdrew to loop tightly around their master's form. "I was sent to find out my true nature. To find out why the Gods decided to wipe out my whole tribe and all my blood kin and leave me in the care of the only Wizard ever to merge with his Elemental guide. To find out what my place was in this world and if I could figure out a way to reign in the darkness within me, to at least stay clear of human lands where I could potentially hurt people. Again."

"Again?" Gojyo asked bemused.

"Again, as in I've hurt people before. A lot of people. You know of the Covenant's treaties, right?"

"Good and bad and personal gain and shit, yeah, we signed the book too you know." Gojyo huffed, free arms now able to cross his chest although he wasn't nearly as mad as he was a few minutes ago, probably had something to do with not being all tied up.

"Yes well, if everyone you ever loved was killed off what would you do?" Hakkai asked solemnly.

Gojyo growled and bared his fangs, "I'd kill every last one of them."

"Exactly, except I'm technically not all human, but like you, I'm not all demon either. The Djinn-cursed tribe was once human, once powerful Earth Wizards and Witches every single one of us, my family more so than the others, but a forbearer called forth a darkness demon from the lowest level of the Underworld, a Djinn, in his impudence and lost control of it half-way through the binding ceremony. Since it was partially sealed to him the demon cursed instead of slaughtered us and returned to its home underground. We have been as you see me since, powerful, a creature of forest shadows and moonbeams, a living incarnation of the Sacred Forest Valleys of Calil and guardians of the Ridges that run between them." Hakkai paused to take a deep breath and Gojyo found himself leaning forward eagerly anticipating the next part of the tale, his breathing unconsciously following Hakkai's.

Opening his eyes Hakkai smiled slightly and with a gentle hand brushed it along the honeyed jaw in front of him. Gojyo chased the tender ministration with his head and sighed when cool fingers tucked long hair behind an ear. "The problem isn't that we were cursed you see, even cursed I'm still considered mostly human and since the murderers turned out to be demons…you see where the Council had a problem on their hands. They were dead, but I, a human, had broken the treaties and used Wizard magic and human weapons against them."

Gojyo gasped when the pad of a gentle finger ghosted over his bottom lip and rubbed at the corner of his mouth, it was odd, how listening to the guy spill his guts was making him less and less inclined to run screaming for the hills. Oh, some part of his brain realized he'd already given in to the green-eyed wizard who wasn't nearly as freaky as he originally thought what with his accessories playing nice and leaving him the fuck alone, but another part still warned him to be careful. This wasn't some little country magician, this was a big-city, has a dragon for a pet, _Wizard_ with a capital W and he needed to be cautious about giving in too easily to the magic humming around him and pooling in the small nooks and hollows of his body, soaking into his skin and generally making him compliant to the wizards wishes.

"Gojyo, are you still with me?"

"Huh? Yeah…dead demons, war, lots of bad shit, right?"

Hakkai chuckled quietly and ran strong fingers around the back of Gojyo's neck, a light tug had the red-head crawling forward a few inches just to hover, hand over the edge of the nest and blinking slowly, confusion clouding his eyes.

"I'm not going to hurt you Gojyo, I'd never want to hurt you, but please, its rather uncomfortable sitting like this. Come lay down beside me, I won't bite." He grinned toothily at Gojyo who whimpered softly at the sharp, white teeth and shook his head. He felt like he was slowly being blinded, the world fading out to nothing but smoldering verdant eyes and a smooth, silky voice worming its way into his head and gradually leeching into his heart like the magic glowing on his skin like sweat.

"Don't…s'not right." He tried to explain, to fight the sensation of giving in even as his body moved steadily closer to the shimmering alabaster skin.

"Shhh…If it wasn't right, if you and I weren't supposed to be here at this time, in this place doing this…" Hakkai shrugged and tossed a sultry look at Gojyo as easily as he tossed his pack to the floor, "Then you never would have found my fire, would you?"

Gojyo hated logic. Hated it with the vehemence of a person who survived on instinct alone and hated it even more because that last final warning voice in his head had paused long enough to think it through and that was his downfall. That moment of thought allowed Hakkai to pull him close enough to weave their bodies together like a tapestry, one in, one out, one in again; all the while crooning about missed opportunities, blood, and lust.

Really Gojyo wasn't sure what the man was talking about as he licked the inside of Gojyo's mouth and sucked on his tongue. He caught something about having to give up his humanity and declare himself full demon in exchange for not bringing a war down upon the humans, and he was pretty sure there had been something about a dead sister and a blonde wizard that was more annoyance than friend telling him if he went off into the Wild Lands he'd find his salvation, but it could have all been a fever dream. His body felt like it was on fire after all. Everywhere Hakkai touched made him burn and tingle and by the Gods he didn't care if the man was demon or wizard or Djinn he just never wanted those scorching touches and molten kisses to stop!

"Ha…Hakkai!" he arched his back violently when Hakkai scratched across the inside of his trousers lightly, the catch of claws on fabric making him squirm under the pale flesh leaning over him.

"Gojyo," Hakkai murmured and licked down his sternum with a damp tongue. "Gods Sanzo can be an overbearing jerk sometimes, but I think he might have been right about this. You are…I've never know someone so beautiful before, so breathtaking. If coming here was a mistake, then I'd happily make it again and again to see you like this, splayed out beneath me, the golden earth to my moon."

Hakkai trailed a line of tender kisses over a taut stomach and sharp hip bones, a quick flick of his tongue into his navel and curled one hands' fingers under the fabric of Gojyo's pants, glancing up he locked eyes with Gojyo and took a shuddering breath, free hand rubbing small circles along Gojyo's jaw, blatant need and lust and even fear reflecting in those dusky green eyes.

"I want you, Gojyo, more than any other in my life. I want to taste and hear and **fuck** you until you scream my name and beg for more. I want you now and forever beside me. Agree Gojyo, agree to stay with me."

The fire flared higher at his low, husky words and Gojyo groaned, arching up to grind their erections together and wrapped his arms around Hakkai's back, his lips warm and moist as they rubbed against Hakkai's slightly pointed ear. He'd never had anyone want him as much as he could feel the desire rolling off Hakkai. But it wasn't just lust; there was something about Hakkai that drew him. He'd noticed it in the woods as he'd walked....

His mother had finally run him out for the last time; no matter what his half-brother said there was no way he was going back there. There'd been too much blood and death and tears surrounding him in his short two decades and he'd be damned if he died by some crazy demon witch because of something, or _someone _as the case had been, his father had screwed. So he'd left for good and wandered around in the bloody rain for a few years trying to figure out what to do. He hadn't consciously decided on a direction, just randomly turned when things got in his way, the path of least resistance, so to speak.

Eventually he felt the rain lighten and for some reason he felt calmer, more at peace with himself than he'd been in years. He started walking faster, than jogging, and finally running full tilt until he came to the cave, saw the light and felt warm tendrils of heat and comfort wrapping around him seductively. The first thing he noticed when he stepped into the dry crevice in the earth was the warm smell of peat moss and the crackle of the oddly tinted fire. He'd moved forward without thought, dragging his wet shirt over his head and tossing it over a rock outcropping to dry, although he could have managed that himself at least, his power was limited, but all Water demons could move the wet molecules a bit.

The rustle of leaves had drawn his eyes over the fire and the pale flesh so unabashedly on display made his mouth water. He'd wanted to touch Hakkai the minute he saw him. To taste and toy with him until he couldn't see straight and now here he was, being asked to do the exact same thing. To allow the man who had created the warmth and excitement that filled him from miles away do that until the day they died. Hell, he could think of several worse ways to live and most of them involved his psychotic mother. A Djinn Wizard couldn't be any worse; especially if it was Hakkai.

His eyes hooded but clear he gazed at Hakkai for a long moment. Turning his head slightly he nipped at Hakkai's fingers, lightly sucking on them before whispering against a cool palm, "Yes, Hakkai, yes."

Firelight flared, sparks shot up towards the dark roof of the cave and Gojyo's skin felt like molten steel had been poured over it as the contract settled onto his golden skin, the deep, inky tattoo of razor edged ivy looping out to tangle in a complicated knot about his left bicep, marking him as surely as Hakkai's nails and teeth. Hakkai hissed as he tore off Gojyo's pants, settling down over him and biting down sharply on an exposed neck with a fierceness that would have terrified him at any other time of his life, but all he could feel from the man was the desire and the protectiveness that came from a single minded notion of possession. The rumbling purr that Hakkai was making in the back of his throat might have been a litany of _mineminemine_ or a prayer or a curse, Gojyo didn't know and didn't care when fingers slid down over his thighs and lightly cupped him, a gentle squeeze and pull that had him crying out Hakkai's name and begging for more around the pleasure pain of the deep bruise forming on his throat.

A subtle shift of their hips and smear of precome over an ample erection and Gojyo was whimpering in his need to be completely consumed by his new lover. He wanted to feel that fire everywhere, and Hakkai was more than happy to oblige, stretching him carefully and thrusting in so far Gojyo wouldn't have been surprised if he could feel Hakkai's blood flowing though his veins, the connection so deep and intense that he imagined they'd been fused together.

And then he moved.

There was nothing in the world more beautiful, he thought, than the look of utter wanton abandon on that ivory skin, the light flush staining his cheeks pale pink and his eyes flashing and so dark as to be black in the peculiar firelight. Gojyo wanted to freeze this moment forever, but his vision was starting to go fuzzy and monochrome and he knew he was close. Hakkai had a tendency to unerringly hit the bundle of nerves inside him that struck him deaf, dumb, and blind all at the same time and as he hit it one last time, shaking as he did, head thrown back, skin shimmering and mouth panting, Gojyo felt himself loose touch with everything around him.

Everything but the throbbing in his neck and the knowledge that he wasn't alone anymore; he'd trade a thousand tribesmen for the feeling of completeness Hakkai had just showed him.

"You'll have it, love, forever and ever. You're mine now, my mark, my mate; no one will take you away." Hakkai brushed a shaky hand through damp bangs as they lay panting, sprawled together on the nest and pulled Gojyo closer against him, nuzzling the side of his neck with his nose, trailing kisses over his temple and cheek. "My soul." He breathed reverently and Gojyo knew that it would be alright. Whatever else happened, whatever had drawn them together, magic or fate or the Gods themselves, they'd be okay and they would be together.

Forever.

* * *

Hakuryu watched unabashedly as the two men writhed together. There was a small flair of annoyance in his large chest at the realization that he'd have to deal with this new comer for a while, especially considering the smell of possession the two seemed to radiate in waves as they crashed together. He snorted, the sound somewhere between a rumbling laugh and an annoyed growl as they finally broke apart and his master dozed lightly in the nest he'd dragged together. A while later the demon, Gojyo, his master had called him, shakily pulled himself out of the soft twining layers of vines and limbs and after dusting himself off with soap sand and a rough towel, climbed over the rough outcropping separating their chosen sleeping areas.

"So." The red-head started while nervously eying his large teeth.

Hakuryu growled a warning as he glanced between the half-demon and his master.

"I get it. I get it. You don't have to worry, I won't..." soft ruby eyes lighted on his masters' gently rising shoulder.

"I won't hurt him." he whispered, hands balled up into fists by his side.

Hakuryu grumbled low in his throat and flicked out a long, blood-tinged tongue, the tip hovering over Gojyo's chest before it snapped back into his fanged jaw with an audible crack.

Gojyo flinched at the warning and nodded in understanding. "If I screw up you can eat me, that alright by you?"

The dragon purred his contentment, settling back onto his haunches, his large, triangular head cushioned on formidable claws.

"Well, at least we understand each other." he grumbled, forcing his stiff and sore body to move off the boulder he was crouched on.

Hakuryu, not one to pass up on an opportunity to show just who was in command of this new relationship belched out a small tendril of sulfurous flame, the ends licking hotly across Gojyo's bare backside and causing the demon to yelp in surprised pain.

He smiled toothily as the other moved just that much faster back towards his master, mumbling something about flying rats under his breath. Hakuryu grinned, he'd get him for that one later.

~Fin.


	2. Author's Note

Author's note:

Now including the new multi-chapter version with a new name: **Black Velvet Smile**.

Enjoy!


	3. Prologue

**Prologue-The Shadows Writhe**

There is a prophesy whispered about in the darkest recesses of the Academy of Magical Studies. No one knows how old it is, or even if it's true. If questioned directly most will find an excuse to change the topic or leave the room altogether. There was only one he'd ever heard speak about it without fetters and even then it was only mentioned once, when he'd first arrived at the Academy's solemn gray walls.

He'd been barely a man then, just out of his boyhood-not even needing the edge of a razor on his chin. His mother lay buried in his home town just outside the city, yet it felt like a world away back then. The man he'd been apprenticed to had been a hard taskmaster-fond of his drink and quick with a cuffed ear for any dallying or perceived slights, but he had learned and in learning, eventually became a Master himself.

In those first few days he'd been so consumed with work and lessons he fell off to blissful unconsciousness almost before his head hit the thin pillow, but that night had been different. A storm raged outside the barred shutters of the Academy so fiercely he felt each crack of lightening dance along the hairs on his arm. Each rumble of thunder seemed to shake the very stones beneath his feet. He couldn't will his body to relax enough for sleep, despite the late hour.

Creeping out of his small cell he huddled in the door frame peering at his Master's hunched shoulders by the fireplace. A large, meaty hand raised once and beckoned him closer. Wearily he inched forward until he crouched on the other side of the hearth. A carved crystal box and its matching lid were opened atop a square of shimmering iridescent cloth; its contents shuffled and fanned out as his Master breathed an incantation above them. Seventy-eight cards holding the future and the past, the present and the insubstantial dream. He sucked in a quick breath as he realized he was seeing one of the four high magics being employed.

"Driskell," his Master's deep, booming voice startled him, "I will only show you this once, for the cards are like a living thread and it takes much Power to weave them into a proper tapestry."

"This one," he pointed to the glistening image of a Full Moon on a speckled night sky, "This one represents you and this," he gingerly fingered the edge of another card, it's stark, bone white surface showing the image of a cackling Fool. "There is a foretelling as old as the Academy: _Within a dead grove sets a bloody moon. Only the Earth born Sun will banish its evil_."

"I don't understand," he whispered, a shiver of fear trickling down his back like cold sweat, his eyes arrested by the sparkling gem set eyes of the madman.

"The cards say you will walk with Darkness by your side, perhaps you will be consumed by it, but I don't believe so. Here," he pointed to several pairs of cards on the very edge of the cloth, their cross shape closest to the flickering fire, "These are The Page of Cups and the Sun, Temperance and Justice."

"Beneath them lay the future: Reversed Knight of Swords, Strength, Death, the Magician, the Lovers, and the Wheel of Fortune. At some point you will have to face each of these. I'm not sure when or how-that you must figure out yourself."

"Know this though," glancing up his crinkled eyes were dark sparks beneath shaggy gray brows, "a prophesy is only a phantom thing, like the mist it can hide and reveal at will, or disappear completely. Beware of the shadow that walks beside you, boy; that is all I can really tell you."

A weight settled upon his soul at those cold words, their echo lasting for decades as he trained. A wizard, especially a powerful one, can live for centuries; he was well into his fifth such when that shadowy darkness finally fell across his path. Its smug, self-satisfied look somehow right on a youthfully handsome acolytes' face. He'd known what the man was at a glance, although no one else seemed to. Yet even though he knew the peril he couldn't fight the drawing he felt in the other's presence.

Bran was a force to be reckoned with, all enigmatic smiles and easy laughter. He challenged him more than any other he'd come across and _yes_- he set something deep within him to smoldering. If Bran had been satisfied with the learning of the Academy they might have fought against destiny and managed to wring no small amount of pleasure from each other over their centuries' long lives as Royal Wizards, but of course the young man couldn't leave things well enough alone.

Of all the learning in the great city of Kars only one Path was forbidden to the students: The Book of Tal'en with its Demonic Magics. Stolen during the Blood War from the Council of the Underworld by a wickedly intelligent Earth Wizard by the same name, the book was reported to have the names of every pure blooded demon and the rituals on how to bind them. These were feats so great and fearful as to be taboo to even other demons, for within the book lay the secrets of the most horrific and frightful of all nightmare creatures: the _Djinni_.

Leaning back in his rocker Driskell stared out into the light misting of rain graying out the central garden, his fingers restlessly tapping the open page of his journal. Bran had stolen away from Kars under cover of the new moon, its dark sphere plunging the world into Darkness. Why he hadn't seen the betrayal he never figured out, but those few days of lead time were all the cocky wizard needed to throw their world into chaos and wipe out his companions' birth place as well. Bran was destroyed, pulled into the death pit of the furious Djinni, but not before the mountains to the East were wrung dry in a fury of nature and rebounding Power.

The once Sacred Ridges of Calil with their dark haired, moon pale, proud tribe of Power wielders were exterminated in a night. He'd stood with the others from the Council as the black foulness flowed out of the mountains towards Kars. As it twisted the once straight boughs of the Briarwood and up the River Aj he knew his Master had foreseen truthfully. He called as strong as he could and, wrapped in the Power of his Elemental, forged himself into a deadly weapon. He struck with the combined will of the Wizard's Council behind him.

Days flowed together. _Sound. Taste. Touch. Smell. Sight._ He felt none of them and all of them. He reached out, found Bran's mind within the Darkness and shredded it with force. The land shook and he knew nothing for weeks except the blackness of his own living nightmare.

He'd killed his lover to save his land. There was nothing left for him in Kars or the Academy. He felt the gray, pregnant storm clouds moving across the Duchy like a yoke across his back. Stumbling out into the courtyard he raised his face towards the heavens and screamed, the rain mingling with the hot, salty tears that coursed down his face, blinding him to everything.

It was raining when he left. A single pack of journey food and a canteen full of purified water on his slouched back. He had no destination in mind. Truthfully he wished for the strength to hurl himself into the sea, but couldn't make himself take that last step. He felt there was still more to do in this world. He just wished he knew what it was.

It was raining once more when he heard the faint wailing of a new born going over the Falls of Time on the southernmost edge of their territory with the Underworld. Half a century of wandering around in the Wild Lands, holed up in crude caves and sheepherder' huts wondering what would become of him and the chubby little fingers clutching at his long, unbound hair brought him back to the world better than anything else had.

For fifteen years they lived in relative peace in their little sanctuary. Until one rainy autumn day his adopted son, now an unruly teenager, kicked open the door of their small cottage and dragged the bloody and beaten body of a young man inside. The strangers' alabaster skin glowing in the fire light like moon shards, his brown-black hair plastered to his hollow cheeks and brow; the gray-green vines writhing across his flesh, small claws broken and bloody. The last survivor of the Horrors of Calil.

When he decided it was finally time they returned to the capital, it was raining once more. Rain seemed to follow them, a cold, dreary phantom skirting their path. His son was a surly young man of twenty-five crackled with pent up magical ability and his foster son, just a scrap younger at twenty-one, had grown into a deadly, silent presence behind him. Calum was the sun to Emrys' moon. They were complete opposites and yet so much alike it disturbed him sometimes. Perhaps it was knowing that they were alone in this world, perhaps it was spending the last decade training together, or fighting demons in the woods, or the secrets of their births, whichever, it drew them together as a formidable, deadly pair of wizards.

Of course it was raining when he sent the boys out to find their own familiars, the two complaining the entire way with a brittle edge to their spirits and tempers that worried him. The City of Kars had not been friendly to Emrys and Calum had taken on many a fight for his only friend's honor. His weary violet eyes were narrowed to a razor's edge when Calum came walking through their front gate, an unconscious Seth in his arms, yelling over his shoulder at Emrys that if the little white dragon flitting around the boy's unkempt head so much as hiccuped near him again he'd have a new belt. Driskell had noticed a certain gray ashen-ness to his normally impeccable white robe; he stifled a laugh behind his folding fan and ushered the four inside.

The turn of the season brought with it rain and whispers that something Dark was once more lapping at their boarders. When the young men, no longer boys, came to blows over the rumors that Emrys would be the key to the city's magical locks; that his fanatical research into his past would doom them all the sky cried once more. Lightening flashing in the dark green eyes, their golden light as sharp and dangerous as the storms' fury and as deadly silent as his razor sharp ivy, claws and fangs. The past was catching up with him it seemed. He moved forward into the storm with quick efficiency, power lancing through the dark night and physically separated the two men.

The wind lashed his robes as his eyes narrowed on his second son. That night he sent Emrys out into the Wild Lands to learn the truth about Calil and his heritage as the last of that vanquished blood. To find out about Bran and the Book of Tal'en and hopefully to right the wrong his own kin had wrought on their world. Watching his stooped shoulders as he pulled his pack on; as he turned from them and shut their family out of his life as easily as he shut the wind out with a twist of his wrist and tug to his hood Seth asked tremulously why they weren't going with him. Calum's grim face as he stared after the shadowy form without answering terrifying the young Elemental. His family was breaking apart. He had closed his eyes and prayed that he would not have to kill another loved one, or worse, make his son kill for him.

Driskell sighed heavily, rubbed long, thin fingers into his pale blue eyes and tramped down on the urge to use the cards again this evening. It was raining once more and this time he could see the future clearly….

Death was coming.


	4. I: Into the Wild Woods do we walk

**I-Into The Wild Woods Do We Walk**

There's a fine line between White and Black magic according to the Covenant of the Rising Sun's third treaties with the Underworld. It has nothing to do with pain, or blood, or even death. You see, it's not the effect that determines if a spell is 'good' or 'bad', but the intention behind that spell; are you doing it for personal gain? This would be 'bad'. Philanthropic endeavor? That would be 'good'.

Letting some _rumor _lead you into a childish row with your only friend in the world and then attempting to curse said friend with the head of the Wizard's Council behind you and therefore getting stuck being the unlucky sod out here in the Wild Lands where only demons and idiots roamed? That would most assuredly be considered 'bad,' or stupid, possibly both, and more than likely suicidal to boot.

Emrys sighed dejectedly and shifted his pack a bit higher onto his already bruised and battered shoulders. Soren fluttered around his head, an indignant chirp overhead as he shooed the little white dragon away. He was too tired and too wet to have his familiar sitting on his shoulder today. He muttered under his breath, face half hidden beneath a full, voluminous cloak about Wizard's sons and constipation spells. That would be another 'bad' spell, but at the moment, trudging through the sodden downpour, he was perfectly willing to accept whatever punishment the Gods threw at him for just a bit of revenge. After all, he was already cursed, so what did one more black mark matter?

"Alright, I know, I know. We'll never make it to the foothills at this rate. Find us some form of shelter, won't you?" he called out, glaring at the sullen gray sky with renewed dislike. Soren warbled softly and swung out to the East. He groaned and turned to follow, of course he would head into the wind and rain, lovely.

"I really am getting rather dark and gloomy in my old age, aren't I?" he mumbled to himself, rubbing the palm of his hand into his left eye, hissing sharply at the constant throb the marked orb pounded into his skull.

"Damn you, Calum," he cursed savagely, surprising himself at the unusual lack of control. He was normally so much better at keeping his emotions under wraps, sometimes to the point of self-debasement, but his mollifying nature was what had led him to being one of the top ranked Earth wizards in such a short amount of time without ruffling anyone's feathers, well mostly. He wasn't even half way through his first century; a feat only three other wizards could claim.

He ticked the list off in his head, frowning as he wove through dense underbrush while attempting to not lose the small white speck of dragon on the horizon. There was Calum who, for some reason only the Gods and the Grand Master could figure out, had become the youngest Light Wizard of the first order and who had managed to summon the most powerful Earth elemental in the Council's history to be his familiar.

There was the Death Wizard Bran, whose name, even three quarters of a century later, was still whispered of to frighten wayward children. Emrys had managed to locate a single sanctioned reference to the man that gave a hint about a large, beast-like demon that he had managed to summon, but couldn't control. It had eventually run amok and taken most of the Wizards' Council to destroy.

And then there was the Grand Wizard himself: Driskell, father of Calum, and rumored lover of the whispered Bran. He had progressed so far through his magics courses and gained so much power that he had transcended the limitations of his physical body to becoming light itself, merging with his Elemental and becoming an almost God. Of course being a demi-god didn't mean he had any sense of propriety, he often hung around in human form just to mess with him and Calum.

Emrys sniffled lightly and rubbed a leather gloved hand across his nose, hunkering down a bit farther into his cloak to keep the cold rain water from running down the back of his jerkin. He grimaced as he felt the vines shiver across his cheek. They didn't like the weather any more than he did it seemed. He brushed the fluttering edge absently, his touch soothing as he wondered at how almost sentient the damn things seemed this past year. They'd never behaved like this before he'd left home.

His family ties to the Forest of Silence had mostly made him an outcast among his fellow acolytes in school, but a few had taken his presence as a personal affront. He rubbed the inside of his wrist as he trudged down a hill, the pad of his thumb sliding along hair thin scars. His blood had brought him more trouble than it was worth most days. Now, walking about in the cold and wet with a horrible humor and the beginnings of a chest cold settling into his bones like molten lead, he really hated being the last of his tribes' 'touched' bloodline.

He hated being cursed by the mark of demons, he hated being sent on errands that involved the thrice-damned beings from the Underworld, and he hated the memory of his foster brother's tight jaw and flashing eyes as he slammed the gate and left on this fool's errand, but mostly he hated the feel of mud squelching between his toes. The damnable boots he'd gotten in that last town had a hole in them around his big toe and Gods did it grind on his frayed nerves to feel the soft suction of the thick, dirty mud cling to his flesh each and every time he took a step farther and farther into their territory.

He _hated_demons.

Soren warbled happily from off to his right. Catching the faint feeling of _dryness_from the dragon as he fluttered to the sandy soil of a cave he grit his teeth and hurried along. With a backward glance the little dragon wriggled his shoulders and tilted his head, his pale ghostly body shimmering like moon dust as he stretched and shivered, his skin shedding like a snake. Emrys felt his pleasure at finally being able to stretch out in peace over their link. Though not strong enough to know the others thoughts, he could easily pick up emotions, especially joy.

Standing at the mouth of the dark cave he fingered the drawstring bag full of jewel toned crystals. Almost a dragon's length in depth and a good six shoulders wide the cave was big enough for a small guard troop if they were so inclined. Of course, considering how far he was into demon territory he was sure none of the human armies would muster out this far. Chanting softly under his breath he set about warding the entrance with dark agate and cracked bloodstone. The wards would warn him of anything dangerous or menacing to him, but allow the harmless to pass through without hindrance. It's not like anything could really harm him with Soren nearby anyways.

After a thorough exploration of the cave he squatted down and set up a small fire. Green light flared at his fingertips as he gently stroked the last of his tinder into a mossy, magical glow. He sighed and slouched out of his sopping clothes, laying them down by the wan, eerie light to dry overnight. Stretching out on a thin covering of dry leaves he used a bit more power to draw some residual heat up through the crackly shale beneath him and reveled as his markings shivered in reaction to the earth surrounding his now nude form.

Taking a deep breath to center himself he closed his eyes and started to hum softly, drawing the spicy scent of pine and fresh turned earth in through his nose and back out through his mouth, his delicate fangs and tattooed skin gleaming in the witches' fire he'd sparked off. He tried to form an image of power around him, a protection of Earthly energies that he could call upon, but for some reason the white glow kept bleeding through with red. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and wiped the image from his mind.

He tried again, focusing on the clear white light of power and breathing deeply. This time it held for a moment before the color shifted, before he felt the prick of hail slicing through the cave's mouth and the power turned a ruddy crimson. He jerked back, unconsciously pulling the tainted magic into him and trembled as it merged with his own powers.

Something was wrong, something he couldn't place and couldn't stop. No matter what type of spell came to mind, no matter what type of image, the power he'd called forth would not dissipate, would not let him go. It sunk deep into his blood and bones, settling into his very soul with a frozen edge to it that burned. Physically shaking himself free of the magic he collapsed in a shivering heap on the nest of ferns and dried leaves he'd scooped together.

Soren rumbled concerned from his section of the cave, the deep placating tones chasing the last of his fears away. He'd started something here and he wasn't sure if he could stop it. Already he felt the sharp bite of magic tinted wind flowing from the cave out into the night.

Another almost inaudible rumble from Soren reminded him that whatever happened, he needed his sleep. He spoke a _word_ and felt the wards concealing the cave slip into place, now only his magic was allowed to pass. It took hours more before he dropped off into blessed oblivion, his mind a tumult of half formed images and his heartbeat deafening in the stillness of the cave. He could only hope that whatever happened was meant to be.


	5. II: Keep your friends closer

II: Keep Your Friends Closer

The frozen sod crackled like shattering glass under the heavy tread of his boots. Silver clouds of breath puffed out against the damp fringe of his furred hood as he trudged through knee high drifts of wet powder, the shifting of the stilted breeze causing handfuls of clumped ice and snow to fall from their precarious perches high upon the pointed tips of evergreens and the spindly reaching fingers of bare oaks. He pushed his way doggedly though grasping briar bushes and over treacherous ice melts until the weak sunlight filtered through a break in the dreary over cast sky and a deep emerald green pool glittered up at him. He paused, taking in the bubbling sulfurous liquid and groaned thinking about how nice and warm the water looked; how inviting to his weary body.

He trod over the thin, creaking ice around the edges and lightly fingered the surface of the water, hissing at the sharp sting of pain the boiling liquid caused, the tip swelling and puffing up in angry red welts. He sighed, rocking back on his heels and tried to pull the cold out of the surrounding ice and snow melt; tried to cool the volcanic hot spring…and failed. Climbing to his feet he tossed a rock into the center of the spring and cursed under his breath, damn lot of good it did being a demon when he couldn't even change the temperature of a stupid pool of water.

He tossed another rock for good measure and turned away from the iridescent pool, eyes scanning the horizon, noticing the dark gray line of another storm creeping across the purple smudge of mountains and shrugged dejectedly as he pulled his hood down over dark limp hair. He picked a random direction and started walking, muttering another useless curse as the snow melted underfoot and turned into small rivulets of icy mountain runoff.

_Now_ it worked, of course.

It wouldn't have been so bad if he'd been able to barter a spell or two from the Sanglin Clan that last valley over, but when he'd finally made his way to the main gates all he'd found was a pile of bones and smoking embers. Large paw prints and claw marks gorged the still frozen earth with deep trenches, crystallized blood cracked underfoot as he'd picked his way through the few standing buildings. He'd found a few…pieces, but not enough to properly name as people. It looked like a war zone.

He shook his head remembering the undercurrent of sulfur; a dragon had come through the village, but he hadn't a clue as to what would have drawn the mythical beast down from the Ridges. _No one_ came or went from that cursed land. Not if they valued their souls, demon or human alike. It just didn't make any sense. Even if the dragon had been rampaging there would have been survivors and if it hadn't…if it had been commanded; he gulped remembering and shuddered. He didn't want to meet the person who could command a dragon-let alone one that allowed it to destroy an entire village.

Granted, the Sanglin weren't exactly friendly to outsiders and even if he'd managed to not be killed on sight from one of their lookouts hidden in the hills he'd have had a tricky time actually making a decent barter. Actually, now that he thought about it, the Sanglin were temperamental, untrusting gits that liked to fight, what happened to their village shouldn't come as a surprise at all. With that firmly resolved in his head he moved off from the steaming pool and glanced around him, opening his senses to try and locate some place warm.

Hunkering down into his jacket he concentrated on pushing the rain off him; pleased that he could at least bead the moisture and push it to the surface of his clothing. He barely saw the surrounding countryside as he walked on, all his attention tuned to the feel of sleet falling around him, the whistle of the wind as it whipped through the mountain pass and the smell of heavy pregnant clouds racing towards him.

A storm was rising and somewhere up ahead of him he could smell Power in the air. Turning a bit to the Southwest he headed for a pass between the foothills, slouching as his bag shifted higher onto his shoulder.

He thought he was dreaming when he finally spotted the faint green-gold shimmer in the darkness. Not that the constant rain really bothered him, other than the annoyance of having his hair plastered across his face each time the wind shifted, or having the feel of squelching mud sucking his boots in with each heavy step he took forward. Really, it wasn't all bad; at least it wasn't snowing down here in the valley. He hmphed, ducked his chin down farther into his coat and shoved his fingers deeper into his pockets. He could do with a bit of warmth though; it felt like he'd been cold for his entire life.

The cave and subsequent fire glittering compellingly across the glade seemed too good to be true. And yes, he probably should have known better than to just wander in thinking he'd be welcome, but the faint tingling across his skin as he crossed the threshold hadn't, well, you know, blown him up or anything, so he figured it had to be another demon. Possibly an earth demon from the faint smell of turned soil and charred wood in the cavern and hey, earth and water demons typically got a long, so what could be the harm? He'd share what little of his dwindling food stores he had left in his pack and in the morning he'd hit the road again.

He sighed wearily as he shucked off his oilskin knapsack and drenched leather jacket, shifting closer to the eerie green fire as he shed clothes that seemed as tight as a second skin once wet. He didn't even shy away when he felt cautious eyes following him as he moved about.

"Stop looking at me like I'm gonna eat you," he grumbled finally. Shifting closer towards the green flames, hands pulling off his soaked shirt and then lazily combing through long, ruddy gold strands of hair.

Emrys carefully studied the newcomer. He'd seen all sorts on his journey, human, demon, even a few elementals, but he'd never seen someone who drew his attention as the man across from him. There were dark flashes of vibrant red streaking the longer tendrils that brushed his shoulder where they were clasped loosely by a silver etched band pulled to the side in a messy tail. The red was striking, but the glowing ember eyes really drew his attention.

They were exotically notched around the edges with a coppery branding that might have been some type of crushed pigment, but seemed to be more like a fine ritualistic scarring. Below his right eye was another scar-like pattern, this one appearing like a sideways dart tip, finely hooked on either side of the slash towards the corners of the crimson eyes. Several silver piercings ringed his right ear and a tight band of pewter beads formed a choker that looped his slender neck thrice. He was startlingly handsome to Emrys, who found himself drawn to the man unconsciously. It took him a moment to find his voice as he forcefully pressed his palms into the soft ferns of his bedding. He itched to touch the silken looking hair, to brush it back from those unusual eyes.

Clearing his throat he took a deep breath and asked in a husky whisper, "Fire demon?"

The man glanced up, a mingling of disgust and suspicion marring his beautiful face as he scowled at Emrys.

"Gods no!" he snorted indignantly and smoothed a hand over a broad chest, long fingers flicking stubbornly clinging jeweled droplets of moisture from its toned form, "Water, and only half at that, so let me just state for the record that nothing on me is worth slicing off and selling at the Blood and Bones Market in Kilkeni, got it?" his voice was warm and strong, slightly ragged as he growled the unspoken threat.

Emrys' left eyebrow rose into his messy mahogany fringe as he stifled a chuckle. "You do realize your sitting in a warded cave with a wizard and warming yourself by a witches' fire, don't you Mr. Half-Water-Demon-Sir?" he asked with a touch of humor.

"Oh. Shit. Yeah well, sorry, from the look of you I figured you were another demon and um…I didn't explode or anything when I came in here." He peered at Emrys doubtfully, "You sure you're a wizard?"

This time Emrys did laugh. His luck had always come sideways and this meeting was apparently following form. He'd spent the last decade fighting for proper wizard standing with the Council only to have his entire future decided by his inability to control his temper with that petty, childish row with Calum about Bran and now…now he was finding himself attracted to a taboo half-demon. Fabulous. Absolutely fabulous.

"Hey, you okay? I mean, you're not crazy or anything, are you?" a concerned voice asked shakily from above him, like he wasn't sure if Emrys was quite sane or not. Or if getting to close would mean his untimely death.

Wiping his eyes he stretched out on the leaves and glanced up into softly glowing red eyes. There was a bit of fear in their deep burgundy depths as he reached out a hand and lightly stroked it down the side of a scared cheek, a frown pulling his lips as he whispered, "The Gods like messing with me it seems."

The red-haired half-demon hunched over him frozen as delicate vines unwrapped from moon-pale skin with a soft rustling and trailed after the fleeting touches of long fingers. Panic was evident on his naked face as he stared down into forested eyes and swallowed nervously, "You're not gonna eat me or anything, are you? 'cause I'm pretty sure I don't taste so good."

Emrys chuckled and wove his fingers into the thick mane of brilliant hair, his immaculate claws curling around the back of the man's neck and tugging gently until the other was kneeling beside him.

Emrys showed dainty fangs as he smiled wolfishly, his voice a husky whisper in the flickering light. "No, I'm not going to eat you. You see I'm not a demon, just cursed by one. I really am a wizard, second rank too, but I have no intention of hurting you. I'm here looking for something but now..."

He could feel the power of the disrupted spell from earlier pushing against them, trying to bring them closer, to force something into being. From years of training he knew there were two types of magic: sympathetic and high. He had tried to summon high magic when exhausted and in unfamiliar territory. When the other had crossed his wards he realized he'd created some hybrid between the two, that the skittish man across from him had been drawn here by magic of a more sympathetic nature. Something Emrys couldn't deny even if he wanted to.

Rather there was an intangible presence about the water demon that called to him, it soothed and scorched across his body and soul in time with his heartbeat. Such a contradictory emotion should make him weary and on edge yet all it did was fan his interest higher. The slight contact of their flesh meeting made his fingers tingle. He grinned as the other shook his head and licked his lips a few times in an effort to speak. He was fighting this _compulsion_ or whatever it was that was sparking between them.

He could feel the confusion and uncertainty rolling off the man like he felt the power earlier. He watched as those unusual red eyes went glassy, the magics pushing them closer together as he spoke. Emrys crooned softly, his voice soft and lilting that made the man shuffle closer to the bedside without his realizing it. He felt the other pull back just as their lips were about to meet, a groan in his throat as fear flickered behind ruby eyes.

Something was wrong here,some part of him screamed in his head about something being terribly, terribly wrong.Words tumbled haltingly from his lips, half formed and almost indistinct from the little gasping moans he was struggling to contain,"'s not right," he shook his head, his speech blurring. "I'm a demon….the rules…you're a…."

"A wizard?" Emrys mouthed against his temple. "You came here for a reason, didn't you, Mr. Half-Water-Demon-Sir?" he teased in a soft voice, claws scratching lightly along the base of his skull as he tilted the demon's head back, exposing the long column of tanned throat.

"Ca—Cain," he stuttered, "and **no**, I wasn't expecting to get seduced by a sodding wizard of all people when I saw the light!" he meant to wrench back from the hold but the sultry expression in green-eyes trapped him as surely as the still clinging vines or sharp prick of claws.

"You saw the light?" Emrys asked perplexed, breaking the force of the magic for a moment.

"Yeah I saw the damn light! Why the hell else would I have come in here? I'm a water demon; rain doesn't exactly bother me you know."

"Huh. Well that's decidedly odd then. I'm sure I used Ash and White Oak when I made that fire. It should have been invisible to demons, even half-breeds." He mused, a puzzled frown on his lips as he turned away, completely absorbed in rummaging around in an open pack on the other side of the nest.

"Oh. Oops." The other muttered sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck as he turned back towards Cain and held up what appeared to be part of a gnarled branch.

"'Oops?' What _oops_?" Cain had a decidedly bad feeling about this.

"Ah ha," the man laughed awkwardly, "it appears as though I might have used Rowen instead of Ash when creating the fire. And the name's Emrys, by the by."

"'Rowen.'" Cain's mouth dropped open incredulously as he immediately struggled against the vines crawling their way back around his bare chest and arms. "You used Rowen and White Oak when making a _witches' fire?_" his voice cracked ominously, his struggles gaining in intensity.

"That's not a warding spell, that's a bloody binding spell you idiot! How the hell can you be second ranking and screw-up something that simple?" Cain's face burned with a blush as red as his eyes and hair as he struggled even harder against the clingy vines.

"Oh, um, well, that's not really the part I'm concerned about actually." Emrys' contrite voice stopped him dead as he turned and, eyes narrowed, peered at the man wearily.

"What do you mean?" he growled.

Emrys prevaricated, eyes fixated just to the side of Cain's right ear as he dropped the branch and sidled forward, pale white skin glowing in the wan light. "I figured the spell was going a bit wonky due to lack of sleep, but something happened during the casting, the magic got away from me a bit. Oh well, no harm, no foul, correct?"

Cain blanched and then flushed as Emrys crawled animal like across the nest towards him, a predatory glint in his eyes that made his breath catch and cock jump traitorously as the haunting green-gold fire seemed to lick across the ivory skin; the almost thwarted magic crashing around them, stifling in its intensity.

"I'm not a fucking familiar," he growled when Emrys was only an inch away from his lips, pointed teeth showing warningly behind snarling lips. Cain despised the thought of someone claiming him, but he couldn't shake the feeling somewhere deep inside that Emrys might just have a point. His mixed blood made his own magic unsteady, prone to fits of temperament as fierce as his own and truthfully, he couldn't have sworn that some part of Emrys' magic hadn't called out to him in the rain-_something_ had after all.

Damn the demonic pack mentality- the instinctual need to find stronger demons to forge ties with. Not for the first time did he wish he was a full demon. It was a cruel twist of fate that had made him what he was: a taboo half-breed that couldn't control his demon nature properly.

Emrys frowned slightly, as if chasing his thoughts. "No. Not in the traditional sense as you're not a full demon nor elemental and you're not a slave either. I would never do that to someone…_ever_."

There was a catch to the last word that caught Cain's attention and he wondered about the possible implications the fierce rush of hate Emrys' tone conveyed. However, the wizard chose that moment to shift just that much closer and then he was basically in Cain's lap, their teeth and tongues and lips all mashed together as the vines pinned his arms behind his back and Emrys rocked his hips down onto Cain's traitorous lower body.

Oh hell_,_ he thought as the fire glinted off dainty fangs and glowed in one emerald-black eye, a golden six-pointed star blazing back from the other. He whimpered nervously around Emrys' tongue. The man wasn't just some earth wizard with a shitty memory; he was a fucking _Djinni _cursed earth wizard. That was worse than any Underworld demon or rogue elemental he'd ever come across and at this rate he was going to accept the pact with him.

Shitshitshit! He really was thrice-cursed as his mother always claimed.

Pulling back by sheer force of stubborn will he mewled piteously at the loss of bodily contact but had to try, "Emr…oh_ fuck_…Emrys, wait, please, you don't want me as a familiar. I can't even do anything about the rain man, my power's absolute shit and okay, I'm not exactly hard on the eyes but seriously, you're a fucking Djinni-man! You can call a much more powerful demon than me!" he was practically sobbing as Emrys drew his fingers up and down his sides, the claws skipping a bit over his ribs as they slid down the sharp jut of his hips with a soothing touch that left his skin tingling.

Their combined magics were a throbbing pulse that beat against Cain's skin, making his flesh tingle and flush. It hurt so much to stay apart, but he couldn't just give in, he couldn't.

"That's very astute of you to notice my nature, Cain, although you are rather mistaken about the rest of it. I don't believe you were called here to be my familiar. You see I already have one, a rather powerful one that protects me from demons, competition, and other random acts of the Gods."

Cain followed the graceful arch of Emrys' hand as he waved off into the back of the cave where two saucer sized glowing red eyes glared at him balefully while a deep snort and sulfur ridden curl of slate gray smoke wafted out from the back of the dark cave. His eyes going wide as he squeaked, "You've got a _dragon?_"

Emrys smiled wolfishly against the side of Cain's neck, his breath warm and skittering over the trembling skin."Soren, yes, although he normally stays in a much more manageable form," he cocked his head up at Cain and then over at the gleaming white snout that stood half a man high, "you two should try to get along, we'll be together for a while it seems."

"There's no way I'm hanging out with you two for any length of time, I don't do dragons and I _don't_ do wizards." Cain insisted smartly, fighting the pull of the other man with his words, if not his body.

As it was each touch of Emrys' long fingers left him craving more. It was physically painful when the green-eyed man levered himself up to look him in the eyes, ivy-wrapped fingers gently cupping his chin. The flash of a ruby tongue over soft, full lips had him shuddering and clinging to sweaty arms.

"If not a familiar…what do want from me?"

There was nothing in his experience that would explain this rush of power and emotions he felt. If he hadn't been called as a familiar and he wasn't a sacrifice, which he didn't believe for a moment, not with the way Emrys was kissing across his skin, then there was only one other reason why he would feel this way…

"Oh hell," he whispered, body stiff and eyes wide and starting to glow. "No. No way. I'm only a half-breed, there's no way…"

Emrys' eyes shimmered, the pupils wide in the dark shadow of his heavy bangs. There was a moment of crystal clarity as the pieces slid into place in Cain's mind; something that made him flush and pale at once-that made sweat break out along his skin and shivers run down his back.

"I'm not going to hurt you Cain," Enrys whispered huskily. "I'd never want to hurt you, but please, come lay down beside me. I promise I won't bite." He grinned toothily at Cain who whimpered softly at the sharp, white teeth and shook his head. He felt like the world was starting to fade out to nothing but smoldering verdant eyes and a smooth, silky voice worming its way into his head and gradually leeching into his heart like the magic settling upon their flesh.

"Don't…s'not right." He tried to explain, to fight the sensation of giving in even as his body moved steadily closer; he was losing and he knew it.

"Shhh…If it wasn't right, if you and I weren't supposed to be here at this time, in this place doing _this_…" Emrys shrugged and tossed a sultry look at Cain as easily as he tossed his pack to the floor, "then you never would have found my fire, would you?"

Cain hated logic. Hated it with the vehemence of a person who survived on instinct alone and hated it even more because that last final warning voice in his head had paused long enough to think it through and that was his downfall. That moment of thought allowed Emrys to pull him close enough to weave their bodies together like a tapestry, one in, one out, one in again; all the while crooning about missed opportunities, blood, and lust.

Cain wasn't really sure what the man was talking about as he licked the inside of his mouth and sucked on his tongue. He caught something about being nothing more than a wandering specter- of being the last of his blood, of walking beside Darkness, and he was pretty sure there had been something about a surly wizard that was more annoyance than friend, but it could have all been a fever dream, his body felt like it was on fire after all.

Everywhere Emrys touched made him burn and tingle. He felt caught up in the sensations. Wrapped in warmth and light it was too much, too quickly. He couldn't find his bearings anymore, only Emrys' breath on his cheek, his fingers twisting in his hair were real.

"Em…Emrys!" he arched his back violently when Emrys scratched across the inside of his trousers, the catch of claws on fabric making him squirm under the pale flesh leaning over him.

"Cain," Emrys murmured and licked down his sternum with a damp tongue. "Gods Calum can be an overbearing jerk sometimes, but I think he might have been right about this. You are…I've never know someone so beautiful before, so breathtaking. If coming here is my penance, then I'd happily pay it again and again to see you like this, splayed out beneath me, the golden earth to my moon."

Emrys trailed a line of tender kisses over a taut stomach and sharp hip bones, a quick flick of his tongue into Cain's navel and curled one hands' fingers under the fabric of leather pants, glancing up they locked eyes as he took a shuddering breath, free hand rubbing small circles along Cain's jaw, blatant need and lust and even fear reflecting in those dusky green eyes.

"I want you, Cain, more than any other in my life. I want to taste and hear and **fuck** you until you scream my name and beg for more. I want you now and forever beside me. Agree Cain, agree to stay with me."

The fire flared higher at his low, rasping words and Cain moaned, arching up to grind their erections together and wrapped his arms around Emrys' back, his lips warm and moist as they rubbed against a slightly pointed ear. He'd never had anyone want him as much as he could feel the desire rolling off Emrys. But it wasn't just lust; there was something about Emrys that drew him.

He'd noticed it in the woods as he'd walked; eventually he'd felt the rain lighten to a drizzle and for some reason he felt calmer, more at peace with himself than he'd been in years. He started walking faster, than jogging, and finally running full tilt until he came to the cave, saw the light and felt warm tendrils of heat and comfort wrapping around him seductively. The first thing he noticed when he stepped into the dry crevice was the warm smell of peat moss and the crackle of the fire. He'd moved forward without thought, dragging his wet shirt over his head and tossing it over a rock outcropping to dry.

The rustle of leaves had drawn his eyes towards the wall and the pale flesh so unabashedly on display had made his mouth water. He'd wanted to touch Emrys the minute he saw him. To taste and toy with him until he couldn't see straight and now here he was, being asked to do the exact same thing. To allow the man who had created the warmth and excitement that filled him from miles away do that until the day they died. Just thinking of stepping away now, of leaving his side, made his breath constrict painfully.

He knew demons were magical beings and promises were kept with a ferocity bordering on manic, to break one usually meant the forfeiture of ones life. The magics didn't like to be trifled with after all. He took a steadying breath and tried to force his will against Emrys', tried to stand on his own power and show that he was not the weaker of the two of them.

"No…Gods…I…I can't….." he stuttered, fighting the compulsion to just give in.

Emrys' eyes narrowed, the gold shimmering in the firelight as he growled low in the back of his throat. Leaning in he licked hotly across Cain's jugular, fangs drawing sharply along the golden column. Cain whimpered softly, a low, mewling sound as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Mine, Cain. Don't fight me on this!" Emrys growled warningly.

Cain shook his head forcing all his power to the fore. The fire sputtered, bright flashes of vermillion flames leaping up to lick at the core of greeny-gold.

Strong fingers twisted in his hair. He cried out as Emrys clamped strong teeth over his throat, the tint of pain flooding his blood with a sharp rush of magic. The edges of the fire blended, faded into the other, but the core remained unchanged. He sighed softly, Emrys was the stronger and he knew it.

His eyes hooded and glowing he gazed at the rough stone ceiling for a long moment, his fingers woven in the short, thick hair at Emrys' nape and shuddered. Hell, he could think of several worse ways to live and most of them involved his psychotic mother; a Djinni Wizard couldn't be any worse. Turning his head slightly he nipped at Emrys' fingers cupping his jaw, lightly sucking on them before whispering against a cool palm, his heart racing as he gave in to the crush of magic beating against them.

"Yes, Emrys, _yes_."

Firelight flared, sparks shot up towards the dark roof of the cave and Cain's skin burned as though molten lead had been poured over it; the bond settling onto his golden flesh in the form of a deep, inky tattoo. Razor edged ivy looped out to tangle in gentle curls about his left arm from throat to fingers, marking him for all to see as surely as Emrys' nails and teeth.

Emrys hissed as he tore off Cain's pants, nestling between his legs and bit down sharply on his exposed neck with a fierceness that would have terrified him at any other time of his life- all he could feel from the man was the desire and protectiveness of a single minded notion of possession. Such a change with that one word. It should terrify him, but the taint of blood and magic felt so right all of a sudden, so natural that he couldn't work out what he should be afraid of. This was Emrys and that seemed to make all the difference.

The rumbling purr that Emrys was making in the back of his throat might have been a litany of _mineminemine_, Cain didn't know and didn't care, especially when fingers slid down over his thighs and lightly cupped him, a gentle squeeze and pull that had him crying out Emrys' name again and begging for more around the pleasure pain of the deep bruise forming on his throat.

A subtle shift of their hips and smear of precome over an ample erection and Cain was whimpering in his need to be completely consumed by his new lover. He wanted to feel that fire everywhere, and Emrys was more than happy to oblige, stretching him carefully and thrusting in so far Cain wouldn't have been surprised if he could feel Emrys' blood flowing though his veins, the connection so deep and intense that he imagined they'd been fused together.

And then he _moved_.

There was nothing in the world more beautiful, he thought, than the look of utter wanton abandon on that ivory skin, the light flush staining his cheeks pale pink and his eyes flashing and so dark as to be black in the peculiar firelight. Cain wanted to freeze this moment forever, but his vision was starting to go fuzzy and monochrome and he knew he was close. Emrys had a tendency to unerringly hit the bundle of nerves inside him that struck him deaf, dumb, and blind all at the same time and as he hit it one last time, shaking as he did, head thrown back, skin shimmering and mouth panting, Cain felt himself loose touch with everything around him.

It was several long, breathless moments later as he shivered in the aftermath, clutching that long, lean body still buried in him that it struck him-he wasn't alone anymore. He smiled in contentment. He'd trade a thousand tribesmen for the feeling of completeness Emrys had just showed him.

"Whatever you want love, you'll have it. I swear. You're mine now, my mark, my mate; no one will take you away." Emrys brushed a shaky hand through damp bangs as they lay panting, sprawled together on the nest and pulled Cain closer against him, nuzzling the side of a spectacularly bruised neck with his nose, trailing kisses over his temple and cheek.

"My soul," he breathed reverently and Cain knew that it would be alright. Whatever else happened, whatever had drawn them together, magic or fate or the Gods themselves, they'd be okay and they would be together. He fell asleep listening to the sound of Emrys' heartbeat.

XXXXX

It was in the soft amber glow of pre-dawn that Cain stirred awake. He'd been so tired, the crush of power and foreign emotions so strong that he'd been all but comatose afterwards.

"_Mates_." He whispered into the pale light suffusing the cave. Stretching out a hand he spread his fingers wide and stared at them. There were pin pricks of blood at the tips of each tri-edged leaf, proof of the bond. Not all demons found mates, only a select few and what he remembered hearing from his brother was that the process was irreversible. That most would die together their bond was so strong. He'd never imagined that he'd ever be amongst the few to find one and truthfully he couldn't figure out how they had managed the bonding with Emrys being mostly human. But then again, he wasn't all demon, and those fangs and claws sure as hell weren't stand issue mortal. Could it have been because of the Djinni curse?

"How the hell did you do it?" he murmured, dropping his arm to his side. He curled closer and reached out a tentative hand to brush a stray lock of hair from closed eyes. Emrys sighed and mumbled his name, shifting closer in his sleep. He felt a wave of emotion wash over him. It was so soft, so warm that it made him gasp and pull back. He wasn't…he wasn't use to feeling anything like this. All his previous relationships had been about pain or sex, not love.

He stopped short. Love? What did he know about love? No one in his life, except maybe his brother, had ever shown him anything but contempt. What in the world could he offer that even came close to that emotion? Pulling himself out of the nest he scrubbed at his skin ruthlessly. Emrys smell was still too strong for him to think straight. If they were mates he wouldn't be able to just leave, the magic that had forged them together would rebound and possibly kill them both, but still…

Shakily standing up he grabbed a discarded shirt and whipped them both clean before climbing over the rough outcropping separating their sleeping area from the dragon, grinding his teeth together in concentration. It was said that a dragon's memory was as long as the shadows, that they knew things that were hidden from normal men (demon or otherwise). Perhaps the dragon could tell him if it was true or not?

"So…" he started while nervously eying Soren's large teeth. "Are we really, I mean, seriously, _mates_? Is he that powerful-to break the Covenant between Demons and Humans?"

Soren growled lowly, glancing between the half-demon and his Master. Cain could almost hear the threat in his mind.

"I get it. I get it. You don't have to worry, I won't..." soft ruby eyes lighted on Emrys' gently rising shoulder.

"I won't hurt him," he whispered, hands balled up into fists by his side as he promised himself that he wouldn't screw up this chance. If the Gods had been kind enough to grant him this one boon in life he'd make every effort to be worthy of it.

Soren grumbled low in his throat and flicked out a long, blood-tinged tongue, the tip hovering over Cain's chest before it snapped back into his fanged jaw with an audible crack.

He flinched sharply at the warning and nodded in understanding. "If I screw up you can eat me, that alright by you?"

The dragon purred his contentment, settling back to sleep, his large, triangular head cushioned on formidable claws.

"Well, at least we understand each other," he grumbled, forcing his stiff and sore body to move off the boulder he was crouched on. It wasn't often he partook in soul-searing sex on such an uncomfortable bed.

Soren, not one to pass up on an opportunity to show just who was in command of this new relationship, belched out a small tendril of sulfurous flame, the ends licking hotly across Cain's bare backside and causing the demon to yelp in surprised pain.

"Wait just a damn minute, you didn't happen to go snacking on a bunch of Fire demons two valleys over, did you?" he asked tensely over his shoulder while inching away.

Soren smiled toothily as Cain moved just that much faster back towards his Master, mumbling something about flying rats under his breath. The dragon rumbled humorously; he'd get him for that one later.


	6. III:Time Stops For Neither Man Nor Demon

**III- Time Stops For Neither Man Nor Demon**

The day started out clear and crisp, with the hint of ice on the sharp breeze. Emrys awoke slowly and, for the first time in months, refreshed. Yawning he blinked sleep out of his eyes, smiling softly when he found himself tangled up in Cain's long limbs. **Last night hadn't been a dream then; good.**

He stood a bit shakily before walking to the fire and retrieving their clothes. He hated wearing the same things twice, but he hadn't found a suitable stream to wash in lately and wanted to conserve his few supplies. Cain's belongings looked equally trail worn and he wondered just how long his lover had been wandering the broken mountains between Demon and Human lands. He smiled upon noticing the scratchy patches on Cain's shirt and shook his head ruefully as he bent to retrieve his last clean shirt.

"Mornin'," Cain mumbled sleepily from their nest.

Emrys draped their clothes over his arm as he turned. Cain sat amid the curled ferns and moss, hair disheveled and red eyes softly glowing in the mid-morning light. He rubbed a loose fist into his eye like a child and frowned unconsciously as he glanced around.

Emrys fought himself from saying how cute the man looked just then. "Good Morning, Cain. Are you hungry?"

Sitting beside the red-head he laid Cain's clothing across his knees and brushed back long strands of copper hair out of his eyes. Leaning in he brushed his lips against one of the bruises from last night and grinned wolfishly when the other gasped. Lightly tracing the most prominent of teeth marks with the tip of his tongue he fought the urge to drag the man back to bed.

"We've got a lot of ground to cover today if you're not too sore," he murmured teasingly.

The remark earned Emrys a weak glare. "I know who to blame if I am, don't I?" he grumbled halfheartedly as he ruthlessly dragged Emrys' spare shirt over his head, rumpling his hair even more.

Emrys chuckled softly and laced up his own shirt and pants, leaving his boots off until he'd finished spitting the last of the rabbit from the night before. He'd have to ask Soren to pick up a few more for them while they walked today.

"So, what's the plan for today?" Cain asked.

"I'd like to make it a bit farther into the foothills today, which I hate to say it, won't be a very pleasant hike, but there are a few good sized rivers along the way. We should be able to clean up a bit and rest well tonight at least."

Cain nodded his head as he chewed on a scorching strip of rabbit meat. His fangs easily shredded the tough flesh as he thought about all that had happened in the last day. He had so much to ask, but he was fearful of the answers as well. He really didn't know the man in front of him at all and that terrified him.

Emrys watched from the corner of his eye as Cain methodically chewed and swallowed his breakfast. He had expected a barrage of questions upon waking, but Cain was surprisingly silent. He'd have to watch him carefully as they walked; maybe being out and away from the cave would help matters. He just hoped his answers didn't ruin everything.

XXXX

"So, why exactly are we out here anyways?" Cain asked as casually as possible while picking his way through the corpse of winter blasted pines.

"I'm looking for a book for the Grand Wizard."

"Yeah, yeah, I know all that, but where the hell are you supposed to collect a book all the way out here?" He brushed another clump of frost wet pine needles from his hair as they pushed further off the usable trails.

"I'm…I'm not sure actually." Emrys nibbled his bottom lip hesitatingly. "I was told the Power would lead me; that I would know what I sought when I found it…."

"Wait a minute." Cain stopped him short, waving a hand back and forth in front of him dismissively. "Are you telling me you don't even know what you were sent all the way out into the Wild Lands for?"

He growled under his breath, "Who the hell tells a wizard, even one like you, to go fucking skipping through Demon territory for the hell of it?"

Emrys shrugged and turned away, starting back down what was little better than a deer trail. It was cute how possessive Cain was becoming.

"Now, now, I'm sure he wouldn't have sent me wandering aimlessly. Well, mostly sure, anyways." He murmured, scratching his chin in thought.

"Mostly sure? How long have you been out here?" Cain demanded, suddenly suspicious of the answer he'd receive.

"About a year."

"A…a _year_?" the red head choked out, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as he scrambled up the rocky slope behind him.

Emrys bit his lip to keep from laughing and pushed on. "Come now, we've got a lot of distance to travel before nightfall," he called out, sending Soren on higher up the mountain with a flick of an elegant wrist.

He might not know what he was supposed to gain from finding some long lost book, but he was certain the Grand Wizard, devious mastermind that he was, had seen something of Cain in the cards before he'd left; thinking back on it that was probably his motivation for grabbing the ash and rowen branches from his store rooms as well. He'd thought those were rather unusual items to be packed for a long distance trip.

"And what the hell are your smirking about you manipulative bastard? Don't think I haven't figured you out yet." Cain muttered. He followed Emrys as the other clamored over a small landslide of crushed limestone and quartz, the crystals glittering icily in the weak winter sun.

Emrys chuckled, "and what exactly have you 'figured out,' Cain?"

Cain smirked as he dug his nails into the loose shoal and heaved himself upwards, "That you haven't the slightest clue what you're doing. That you're two times as scary as any demon and three times as messed up. That and you have one hell of a possessive streak."

Proud of his quick retort he took a short break on the lip of an outcropping, long legs stretched out before him, back pressed tightly to the rock face. The self-satisfied smirk as he squinted to peer up at Emrys only slightly betrayed by the tremble of his limbs at the exertion of the climb.

Emrys smiled wolfishly and dragged his long fingers through the copper-red hair, knotting them loosely in his fist and yanked hard sideways. Leaning over Cain he growled softly, the sound almost a purr in his ear, "Right on all accounts, love. So when I say it's time to move on, you might want to hurry. I want to make it into the foothills before we set up camp tonight."

"Slave driver," Cain grumbled, arms crossed defiantly over his chest.

Emrys gave him a disapproving look down his elegant nose. The intensity making him squirm-he quickly scrambled to his feet and followed behind Emrys as they made their way up over the tip of the mountain.

"What type of book is it anyways?" he asked after a few minutes.

"I beg your pardon?" Emrys called over his shoulder. He sounded slightly distracted as he tested each footfall in the shifting gravel.

"The book. What type is it?"

"A magical tome. It's been quite lost this past century or so. What little information I've garnered suggests it might have been sealed here in the mountains somewhere."

He held out a hand for Cain to pull himself up the steep incline, noticing how the other man panted and wheezed with the exertion; his face flushed and muscles straining beneath honeyed skin.

Emrys turned from him swiftly, not trusting himself at the moment; there were too many fresh memories of just such a look in his mind's eye. He bit his lip and shaded his eyes to peer farther East. He could feel Cain shuffling closer beside him, the waves of heat sending a rush of lust washing through him at the barest of contacts.

He swiftly told his libido to go jump in a lake, there was a time and place for reinforcing the bond between the two of them and the side of a mountain was neither.

Cain hunched over, hands on his knees, eyes closed, and mouth hanging open slightly as he panted. He wasn't use to this scaling of mountains. Struggling to calm down his breathing he took a deep breath. "What the hell type of book is so important anybody would come all the way out _here_ for it?"

Emrys smiled sweetly over his shoulder, eyes closed in a fox like face that gave nothing away, "The Book of Tal'en."

Cain blinked, looked askance at the sun backed outline of his partner, then he blinked again. **He couldn't have heard him right. ** Tilting his head first one way and then the other he tried to dislodge whatever had managed to lodge itself in his ears. Satisfied that he'd gotten whatever it was out he gave Emrys a measuring look and asked him to repeat what he'd just said.

"The Book of Tal'en. Didn't you hear me the first time?"

Cain shuddered violently and then pulled himself to his feet. Gripping the brunette hard by his too thin shoulders, and absently filing away the thought that he really should feed him better, he sputtered.

"Wait a damn moment! What do you mean the Book of," he glanced around nervously and then hurriedly whispered, "_Tal'en?_ That book is accursed!"

"Yes, I'm aware of the history."

"'Aware of the'…you've got a fucking death-wish is what you have!"

"Not anymore, Cain, I promise." Emrys ran a long finger down his cheek lovingly before turning and walking away briskly.

"What? Wait. What? Emrys, I swear to all the Gods of Darkness and even your stupid ones of Light if you don't stop right this minute and tell me what in the Underworld is going on I'm going to…to…" he stammered trying to think of an exceedingly vicious threat, "I'll boil your blood!" he declared hotly.

Emrys stopped a good dozen paces down the pronghorn trail and looked back at the gloating red-head. His eyes were hidden behind his messy fringe and for a moment Cain wondered if he'd finally over stepped his bounds. In a heartbeat he was splayed out across the hard, broken surface of the mountain, jagged juts of granite stabbing him ruthlessly in the back and down his legs. His arms were tied up over his head by needle fine ivy while wickedly sharp fangs were bared in warning above his throat.

Emrys' eyes were molten pools of coppery fire and for a split second as Cain stared up into them, terrified and off-balance, he could have sworn the left eye was marked by an encircled pentacle.

"That was a foolish declaration, love," came a gravely hiss of breath between clenched teeth.

"You forget I'm part demon as well and that only fools tempt the Gods with promises like that. What little magic you have will be rift from you like a child's toy if you aren't careful about your promises. They bind us, heart and soul, and once broken the caster has to pay the price."

"I didn't…"

Emrys growled low in the back of his throat; a terrifying sound that made Cain's blood run cold and sweat breakout along his spine. He swallowed a few times convulsively before whispering an apology-Emrys watched him a moment longer before releasing him. Watching through still whirling golden-green eyes, Cain rolled over onto his side, curling in protectively as he cradled his scratched and bruised wrists. Emrys was stronger than he looked.

Noticing the gesture Emrys shook his head and sighed, blinking to clear his eyes of the anger and fear shadowing them. He inched his way forward until he crouched in front of the water demon and slowly reached out to take the bruised wrist in his own clawed hands.

"Cain, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, but you must be careful. Half-breeds and those like me are especially susceptible to the old ways. The Laws of Reciprocity hold more strongly for us than others." Pulling the abraded flesh to his lips he lapped at the tiny pinpricks of blood and softly purpling skin.

Cain bit his lip as he felt that phantom tongue ghosting over his flesh. His lover was one messed up guy and for the life of him he couldn't understand what had brought them together. It was like the man got off on pain. He screwed his eyes shut as that lithe body shifted closer to his, softly grinding against his trapped form. His hips jerked as a sharply clawed hand scratched along the base of his scalp, a little voice whispering in his head that Emrys wasn't the only one getting off on their fight and if that was the case…what did that make him?

His eyes and head lolled back as a hand flipped out blindly; struggling for some purchase in the real. The now. It hit something warm and smooth. Reflexively his hand curled around the item, pulling sharply when Emrys ran that raspy tongue across his collarbones and then cried out as the ground gave way and they were suddenly falling. He scrapped his hand painfully along a rock wall to his right, his left hand curled protectively around Emrys' back. He couldn't see a thing, even with his enhanced night vision and knew from the muttered sing-song coming from Emrys his lover wasn't doing much better.

He wasn't sure how long they were falling. It could have been a year or a second for all he knew. For a fleeting moment he thought they might be in one of those fabled bottomless pits until he heard the telltale sound of rocks crashing and splintering against a rock floor and then he really got scared. At the speed they were going he could only pray that his body would break most of Emrys' fall-although there was little chance of him surviving.

"…_et pario ventus!"_ Emrys suddenly shouted, his words echoing shrilly around them.

Cain grunted as his body was suddenly pushed up against Emrys' as a howling wind whipped his hair into his eyes blinding him momentarily. He was rendered deaf from the sound, his senses addled to the point he fought against Emrys's reassuring hands on his biceps as the man tried to pull himself free.

"Cain. Cain! It's alright, we're down safely. Open your eyes, we're fine."

Slowly, ever so slowly, he did just that; only to screw them back shut again as he cried out. They were on the ground, or rather, the lip of a great chasm. Swiftly flowing dark, smoky water foamed around giant teeth of red-black crystals looking very much like the maw of some giant Hell beast.

"Where?"

"I'm not sure. Interesting, isn't it?"

"Inter…! You're bloody crazy!"

"Probably. Come now, can you stand?" Emrys dragged him up beside him, a lanky arm wrapped around his clenching waist. He was not one for heights and this place shattered the little bit he was comfortable with.

"I think you enjoy betting against the Fates."

Emrys smiled slightly and held out a hand, murmuring under his breath as a ball of green fire snapped into being. "We need to find our way out of here."

"No shit."

"That's not what I mean. Can't you hear it?"

Cain paused and listened, but all he could hear was the crash and wash of the water hundreds of meters below them. "There's nothing…" Turning swiftly, Cain shoved Emrys away from him blindly, a wickedly sharp sickle materializing in his hand. It's ice white blade sang as he swung, a short chain allowing it to flip out into the air. He heard Emrys hit the ground and the slipping of stone upon stone, but he couldn't pull his attention away from what he was doing.

Before him hung a foul red-black fog that writhed and twisted away from his blade. He jerked it back, tossed it out again in an elegant arch of light and as the chain lopped the fog, snapped it back towards him with a vicious flood of energy. In general he pretty much sucked as a Demon, but in this one instance he controlled the full power of his blood and wits: ice flowed through the rent in the swirling mist, crystallizing even the tiniest of particles, whatever the true form of the malignant specter was, it would now be an eternal icicle.

His smile was grim yet satisfied as he caught the blade and willed it back into the ether. Turning he glanced around, eyes searching frantically. Where his lover should have been were only scored shale and drops of crimson blood.

Emrys was gone.


	7. IV: A Candle Against The Storm

**IV-A Candle Against The Storm**

Emrys bit back a cry as he fell through another black void. His claws shredded from his instinctual scrabbling at the rock face as he tumbled over the edge. He could hear water roaring below him, could feel its wet breath against his skin, plastering his hair to his head in thick black tendrils. It wasn't a complete free fall though. Periodically he'd hit an outcropping, jarring his already bruised and battered body painfully against the sharp obsidian and rough limestone before being tossed out into the darkness again.

His skin felt raw from the constant slide of the rocks as he tried unsuccessfully to grab another of the spars of stone, sliding closer to the rushing torrent below him. He wondered idly if he'd have painted the wall red with his blood before he was swallowed by the dark foaming water or if all traces of his passing would be erased as if he'd never been.

Cain's face flashed into his mind's eye, startling him. What would happen to him? Would that _thing_ up there consume him? Would he be able to fight off something that insubstantial? There was something dark and malevolent in the cavern, something that made the horror above him pale by comparison.

The cavern reverberated above him and for a moment he thought he could feel Cain's triumph and despair like a clutching pain around his heart. The rock walls closed in for a moment and he bounced like a child's toy out into the ether, his ears ringing and vision dark. Thick, oozing blood leaked into his eyes to blind him.

A flash of pain startled him as he choked on icy water; the moment intense and panic riddled when he realized he couldn't breathe, that the air he was so greedily trying to swallow was actually water. He flailed helplessly trying to get his bearings, to find 'up' in this world of all-encompassing black.

Since their bonding Emrys had 'felt' Cain as a warm glow behind his eyes, but now…he felt nothing. An overwhelming fear threatened to send him groping blindly into the darkness in search of his lover. He tried to calm himself, to focus for a moment before he surrendered to the darkness of hypoxia. The darkness was suffocating, but it was not complete.

Slowly, so slowly, a soft blue light registered in his periphery- something glowed off to his left. He took a gamble and grasped for it, hand striking painfully against some form of underwater outcropping. Scrabbling for a purchase he dug his broken and bloody nails into something noisome that smeared across the surface leaving an oily residue in the water. As he pulled his hand backwards he revealed an inset piece of quaniron-that mysteriously wrought metal that glowed with a pale blue light.

His world narrowed down to steadily revealing the engraving. He forgot he was underwater, forgot that he couldn't breathe. He ignored the slow burning fire that raced across his chest and up his hands; ignored the fact that he might die here in the dark alone…he forgot everything and then realized with a welcomed gasp as he stripped the last of the slime and velvety lichen away that breathing was no longer a concern. He thought a _word_ and greedily sucked in air, stale and tainted tasting as it was. The engraving was a keyhole and he knew what lay behind it. He should-the mark was the sign of his own clan- a crescent moon circled by the thorny moonflower vines.

He'd found the sunken city of Chimeron.

XXXXX

Cain screamed Emrys' name over and over into the dark-praying that this time he'd hear more than his own voice reverberated eerily throughout the cave complex.

His hands were bruised and bloody from scrabbling down the shear cliff wall; his nails shredded from a meter long slide as he'd rushed head first blindly-desperately. All his tracking skills screamed his lover had fallen into the foaming river far below and that could only mean certain death. Its' icy waters would steal even a water demon's strength and its' swiftness would carry a person for half a league before they were once more swallowed by the earth.

Emrys couldn't have survived.

And yet he did. However improbable it seemed Cain was certain of it. He gripped his shirt front tightly and struggled with the eruption of pain and fear threatening to choke him. He couldn't let panic set in- not now. He needed to calm down; to center his breathing and try to trace the faint link he'd felt since their awakening. It was a long shot, but he forced himself to believe that the mingling of their powers made it possible- he could still taste Emrys on his tongue, smell him on his skill and borrowed shirt…it had to be possible!

Choosing a spot to rest was easy- he was on the only ledge of any real size half-way down the cliff face; he didn't have much choice. Scrunching down into a half-crouch he closed his eyes. It took a while to drop into the trance-like state he needed to work high magic. He savagely pushed the thought aside that he wasn't demon enough to do this, that his human blood would damn him from the start- Emrys believed in him and if nothing else, he could believe in Emrys.

His fingers moved over a wide leather cuff on his left wrist, smoothing over the band of silver riveted to it. He'd tried this once or twice before without much luck, now he had no choice but to succeed. Unsheathing his claws fully he slashed the palm of his right hand and let the deep merlot blood splash over the metal band, focusing on his wish: to trace Emrys who had shared blood with him, whose power balanced and branded his body and soul.

He felt the coils on his arm tighten painfully and peered hard at the cuff, remembering night in a different cave, the taste of his own blood and seed on Emrys' lips as he claimed him with a brutal kiss. He remembered the feel of those whipcord strong vines wrapped around him, of Emrys' voice ringing in his ears as he came with a cry….

The metal smoked, turned a deep inky black as ruins glowed in vibrant red. It meant two things-his lover lived and he was close. Pulling himself to his feet he flared his arm out wide watching the blood runes for a sign. They definitely paled up stream, but he was surprised that they only glowed brighter when he dropped his arm and turned back to the cliff.

Was he directly below him? No, no that couldn't be. The only thing below him was an angry river and tumbled boulders. As he watched the runes start to fade he panicked thinking the worse.

He took a breath and jumped.

XXXXX

The river had carried him far- Cain knew that instinctively upon breaking free of the river's fierce grip. He spat murky water from his mouth, gagging as his stomach rebelled. Drawing the back of his hand across his mouth he smeared dust and grime across his face and blinked into the gloom. Reflexively his fingers curled, blood flowed from the slash on his palm and struck the dusty floor mutedly.

He dug through his belt and struck the metal band against his flash stone, sending sparks out into the air. His lips curved into a wan, ironic smile; at least he could now see his prison. For prison it seemed to be at first glance. Scrapping his uninjured hand along the seam in the rocks he gathered enough silver gray moss to strike up a reasonable torch and examined his cell.

Shear stone walls extended upwards as far as his eyes could see and circled him round. The river must have fed an underground spring that came up through the crack of rock he stood upon.

He groaned at the thought of once more climbing up a cliff, panic swelling when he couldn't see the top. He bit his lip and shivered as a dry warm breeze blew across his damp skin. Eyes going wide he turned into the wind. **Where would a draft come from?**

He moved forward frowning. Hands outstretched he felt along the wall, nails scrapping slightly to test each crack and crevice; his makeshift torch cupped in a small dip in the rock wall. He had no idea how long he searched, how much blood he left smeared across the craggy stone in his hunt. He searched so long his light had burned to cinders, but eventually he found the passageway obscured by overlapping walls.

It was a tight squeeze and he scrapped his shoulders and hands more than once as he forced his way into the tunnel. At first he had to move sideways, crab-like, but after half a dozen paces in it suddenly widened where he couldn't reach the other side with his free hand. He would have moved out into the murky blackness, leaving the security of the wall if not for the fear of falling in the dark.

He couldn't tell how long he climbed, for climb he did. At first he moved along the passageway in a straight line, but slowly he felt a burn in his calves and lower back and knew whatever road he trod was on an incline. Around and around he followed the dusty wall as it spiraled up towards the roof of what he'd come to realize was a cone-shaped structure.

He shoved his limp, dirty hair out of his eyes and grimaced at his surroundings. At some point above him there must be a crack to the outside world as light was softly filtering through the gloom hung in still, ghostly clouds as he pressed on. There had so far been very little debris to obscure his path, just a fine sifting of alkaline dust that clung to his ankles and boots tenaciously. He dismissed the idea that the cavern was somehow naturally forming as the ground he trod rang with a dull metallic boom as he tramped up the road towards the bridge.

It was hard to miss the huge blue monoliths that formed two pillars and were topped with a third making a lintel. There were two of the hulking stone forms- one on either side of a great chasm, only the worm eaten remains of a once great bridge was left to stand testament of some long lost people that had lived here below ground. He stood beneath the first of the gateways and wrapped an arm around an upright plank, leaning out to see just how far down the drop really was. He didn't like what he saw.

Cain gulped audibly before stealing his nerves and gingerly pressing a toe to the long support beams, testing their strength. The wood creaked loudly, but held. He thought of Emrys and moved out, his skin tingling as he crossed completely between the pillar. The cavern was flooded with a shock of bright blue-green light. Whoever had lived here had been power wielders' then: wizards or demons, he couldn't tell. It took more time than he wanted to think about to cross that bridge. Each tentative foot fall tested again and again before he'd commit all of his weight to the plank. Every single groan or crackle of wood making his heart beat that much faster. When he finally managed to hurl himself though the opposite gateway he lay drawing deep lungfuls of air into a panting mouth. Sweat slithered down his back and stung his eyes.

With his breathing calming down, he finally noticed one side of the cavern was very different from the other. Whereas the road he took to get here had been cracked and dusty, he now lay sprawled across a feathery soft, springy silver-gray moss. Something scurried under a broad leafed plant the size of his hands spread side-by-side. It had glowing blue eyes and a horse, raspy call that made his skin crawl. He took no time in exploring the foliage as he scrambled to his feet and started walking.

His arm had been hurting since before the bridge, a dull throb he had chalked up to an underwater impact or the fight with the fog creature. It wasn't until he passed a spectacularly moonflower covered arched brick wall that he realized what it was: Emrys' vines were pulsing in time with a dull pounding in the air. He hopped over a small stream, swatting six-winged jeweled flying insects that flitted just beside his ears and stopped short. Ahead of him were the remains of a crumbled building its gold-hewed stone shimmered in the moist air. Through a cracked wall he could make out a raised dais in the middle of the structure, a pillar or chair of some form in the center. Something thrummed softly, urging him on.

He crawled through the semi-barricaded doorway, dislodging the thorny flowering vines and cried out. Emrys lay in a bloody pool before him, a dark, ebony skinned figure stood above him, an ice-white blade in one hand and a fist full of trembling vines in the other. Glowing amber eyes regarded him mockingly as he unthinkingly called his sickle to hand, one word on his lips..."Bran."


	8. V: Unspoken Memories

**V - Unspoken Memories**

In the days before Darkness came to the Forest of Silence in Calil, the tribe who lived beneath the silver-gray canopy of trees practiced a highly ritualized form of sympathetic magic. Powerful, they bent their wills to the keeping of the world's peace. They formed pacts with Elementals and mythical beasts and stayed clear of all demonic tribes. They were fanatical about the pureness of their blood and the closeness of their familial bonds. There were no clan houses, only _the_ house. The one they all belonged to and lived to serve; the House of Kat'ia of the Great Silence.

The lands of Calil were mostly one large, dense forest, however in the very center of their country lay a deep lake several leagues in diameter and in the midst of that lake arose an ancient hollowed volcano. The forest people had stories about the foundation of their lands. About the evil wizard Tal'en who kidnapped and raped the demonic princess Kat'ia; about his Book of Shadows and about the Light Elemental Sa'ra who guided and protected Kat'ia throughout her escape from Tal'en and her pregnancy.

Sa'ra could not protect her forever though. The Forest's silence was shattered by her death cries when Tal'en finally tracked her down. Sa'ra, overwhelmed with grief over the loss of her friend cursed the wizard and his demonic familiar, merging them together in a hideous mutation of man and beast. She couldn't rift his power away though, choosing to seal him below ground for eternity instead. And there he slept for more than a millennia. Until a fool boy slashed open the earth and poured the accumulated blood of his people into the hole and released him.

Sa'ra had passed along her need to protect the land Tal'en was sealed in to the Forest people; the descendants of Kat'ia and Tal'en's child and her elemental familiar. They were a quiet, thoughtful bloodline with fits of violent possessiveness and deep memories for grievances. There were never many of them and they always interbred with their familiars, boosting their power while minimizing the 'taint' of wizard blood in their veins. They erected a city in the center of the volcano's hollowed crater and used their magics to bind plants and animals to the land.

They tied themselves as well. Their bodies reflected the change as they slowly barricaded their civilization away beneath a masterfully woven canopy of living trees and finely wrought metal work. In the evenings, the moon would set sparks of brilliance twinkling above their heads, its wan silver light reflected off the quaniron they smelted from the mountains' ores. The plants and animals they worked with slowly started to show on their flesh-tightly wrapped vines blossomed across their ivory skins and their eyes reflected the city's dusky light like an animal; bright flashes of silver or gold. Their hair was uniformly dark, a chocolate brown that reminded one of fresh turned earth and their eyes were a clear emerald green. They showed Kat'ia's demonic blood in their dainty claws and fangs and with their slightly pointed ears with their sensitive hearing. They loved their land and they loved their city.

The City of Light. Or in the high tongue - _Chimeron_.

Emrys remembered only flashes of his people's past as he pressed through the dense foliage surrounding the river. He _remembered_ walking this winding path before, but couldn't place when he might have done so. His clearest early memories were of Calum and Driskell in the cottage when he was little more than a boy, before that everything lay if a hazy fog of half remembered dreams. Sometimes he remembered a flash of a delicate, ivory skinned hand, tiny fingers grasping his own; pouting pink lips and laughing jade colored eyes. Those were happy memories that left him feeling wanted and loved, but at other times he'd feel the hot lick of fire across his skin and hear screaming in his ears. He'd wake gasping, sweat pouring down his trembling arms and the bed sheets shredded beneath his claws. It was at times like these he remembered the wicked scar across his stomach. Gingerly he'd finger the edges of the ragged wound and cringe.

Made with claws it was, he knew that even without Driskell telling him so. Three deep-set claw marks that had literally gutted him open. He shuddered, eyes closed in pain as the screams echoed in his ears. _**It wasn't real.**__**Whatever had happened had been so long ago that it didn't matter now. Whatever atrocities were in his murky past could just stay there.**_ His vines trembled across his skin, rising to stroke his cheek in concern.

"It's fine, little ones, I'm fine." He smoothed a finger down the length of them and sighed, they were becoming more and more sentient as they'd walked and now... This wasn't what he needed to be thinking about right now, he had to find a way back to Cain and Soren He just hoped they were both alright.

"Now then, we made it out of the underwater tunnel and have so far found only sparing traces of previous inhabitants, but it feels like there's _something_ up ahead, don't you think?" he murmured.

The river shimmered under the filtered moonlight, iridescent rings lapped in small waves against the volcanic sand on either side of it. Where the ground was clear of vegetation he had to be mindful of slipping in the fine crystals of ancient eruptions, however under the canopy of flowering vines and great, arching branches a tightly woven, springy moss covered everything. He squinted across the shore, nibbling his bottom lip; there had to be something here, he just knew it!

Rounding a bend in the river he stopped short, eyes wide with wonder and a growing sense of excitement. He was right, the area _had_ been inhabited! Dark wooden boats were neatly aligned under a woven metal canopy. They were beyond beautiful, with intricate carvings of fantastical beasts and twisting runes along their edges. Only the pigment had seemed to weathered; he would have sworn the wood was as hard and strong as the day they'd been moored here. He tapped one and sighed in pleasure at the deep, reverberating boom the sound made. It sounded just like a gong.

But the boats were only the first of such magnificent sights to behold. As he walked around the boat house he noticed the sharp edge of pavement beneath the moss and followed along a path designed, it would seem, to lead one directly into the center of the valley. The land so far had been quite varied in geography. First the underground river that he found the tunnel in had led him up to what was most likely an old mine shaft. The shaft had flooded at some point, or threatened to, causing the people the cap the opening. He'd done the builders a disservice in opening that way, but it had saved his life. Not but a few paces in (which the rush of water almost made him overshoot) was a metal ladder leading straight up to a landing. He'd grabbed the lowest rung instinctively, pulling himself free of the water and escaping into a dry side shaft. He'd been right; here there had been the remains of work tools and an overturned ore cart. He wondered at the gauges in the wall running breast high, but hadn't stopped to examine them closely.

What felt like hours passed in the eerily silent cave until he broke through what he had hoped was the outside world, only to find himself inside a much larger cavern; this one so large as to house its own river and forest. He'd walked for a while along the banks of the dark, churning water, its warmth leading him to believe that this mountain was still volcanically active, if long slumbering. This theory was confirmed when he came to realize the ground beneath his feet really was black and more crystalline in structure than true sand could ever be. The walls spiraled up and down along the concave walls of the mountain and he knew they had been made by intelligent hands. There were the remains of a bridge along the far wall to his left, the roaring of the river loud enough to deafen any other sounds in the valley. He turned away from its hulk and squinted, he could have sworn something had just moved beyond the screen of bushes.

"Let's just hope whatever is out there isn't hungry." He murmured, moving as silently as possible off the pavement and into the underbrush.

He gingerly lifted a tri-lobed frond the size of a dinner plate and ducked under it, tiny dewy drops clinging to his fingers as he moved. They smelled faintly floral and made his skin tingle and at any other time he would have stopped to examine them further, but right now there was something much more important to focus on.

In the middle of a glade ringed round with faery stones that glowed a soft green stood a building. A temple actually and not just any temple, he knew that instinctively.

"Sa'ra-kalien." He whispered reverently, the Temple of Sa'ra.

"Who the hell am I?" his vines fluttered in agitation, clutching his flesh hard enough to leave pinpricks of blood on his ivory skin. He absently licked away a drop that rolled across his cheek and dripped onto his lips. He could feel more drops dripping thickly to the ground as he stepped forward, all his attention riveted on the slightly open door ahead of him. It felt like something was stirring in his mind; unraveling.

'_**Come.'**_

"Argh!" he cried out suddenly, dropping to his knees as a voice resounded in his head like a thunderclap. His hands went out instinctively to cover his ears, his entire field of vision wavering for a moment as he remembered how to breathe.

'_**Come.'**_

Swallowing convulsively he crawled forward, more blood smearing into the ground as the volcanic crystals shredded his skin like sandpaper in the clear patches of earth, the moss soaking up the sticky redness as he moved towards the structure foot by painful foot.

'_**Come.'**_

He felt his pulse pick up, the blood rushing in his ears and still he heard the voice in his head. It was deep, smooth and alluring like a full bodied wine swishing around in a goblet. He could feel it wash across his consciousness, drowning out all other thoughts, painting them in scarlet and rose until all he remembered of himself and his mission were two copper-red eyes peering through the darkness of his soul back at him.

'_**Come!'**_

He'd won the door now, its ancient wood still solid where he pushed on it, forcing it open even more. The creaking and grinding as long rusted hinges were forced open helped to bring him a bit back to himself it was such a raw, angry sound. He blinked dazedly, his bloody hand outstretched toward a pillar of golden flame in the center of a raised dais. He'd crossed the floor without knowledge, crawled up the two shallow steps and now, fingers to fire he gasped, knowing full well what he did and where he was. He remembered everything about his past, his childhood and his people, remembered the wanton slaughter of everyone he'd ever known and cared about.

He remembered the terrified shouts of his parents as they raced through their house calling the alarm. He remembered the sick gurgling as their throats were torn from their bodies, the limp, lifeless flesh falling to the floor with dull thuds. He remembered cowering under the bed with his baby sister, watching in mute horror as her tiny, delicate body was pierced through with an ice-white sword, a trickle of blood dribbling from a slack, petal pink mouth, jade eyes unfocusing as the life was stolen from her. The lazy laugh of the mad man that reached under the bed with blood coated claws and dragged him kicking and screaming back through the house and out into the open courtyard reverberated in his head making him dizzy and nauseous.

There was the honor guard with their short, wickedly barbed spears ringing the front door. The quaniron smith with her heavy hammer and the priest and priestess of Sa'ra stood just to their left, his grandparents to the right, the rest of the House spread out behind them. He screamed as he was lifted high into the air, legs flailing as he tried to kick free. His vines wrapped around a dark skinned wrist and drew blood, but it wasn't enough. His hair was yanked painfully hard, his body arching as he was pulled back against a broad chest. He froze, one dark hand curled around his throat as the other came up to his waist. He glanced up into a smiling face and screamed as those claws ripped across his belly, his intestines spilling out like wet mud between ones toes. As he fell to the ground, his blood turning the silver moss black he heard an explosion and a cold, cruel laugh. His throat worked convulsively, blood gurgling foamily from his mouth as he croaked out one last painful word before losing consciousness.

Looking up now into bright blue eyes his mouth flooded with saliva making him swallow hard, "_Brother_," he whispered and knew it as the truth when those same cold eyes crinkled slightly around the edges.

"Emrys, how nice of you to wake me up; now then, won't you please just die?"

The honeyed voice mocked him and his fear, mocked his training and the many years that had passed. He grit his teeth and thought a word, his palms glowing green as the earth strove to do his bidding. Bricks crumbled and toppled end over end as the ground rose up, but he wasn't fast enough. Ghostly silver-white vines snapped across the small distance between them and wrapped his throat in a vice-like grip. He gasped, lost focus on his spell and watched in horror as the earth fell away from his brother's feet.

Emrys snarled warningly as he was dragged close enough for the other to touch, pulling back sharply from ebony fingers as they ghosted over his cheek in a parody of a caress.

"You've gotten bigger." The deep voice chuckled, smiling at him tenderly like he remembered from those happy years before their little sister was born and his brother changed.

Glancing up Emrys could almost believe that the past was all one big lie, "Brother," he started, gasping a little in pain as he reached out.

"Doesn't seem you've gotten any smarter though." Those cold eyes glittered madly as a fist was pulled back. "Still the same self-sacrificing martyr." His head snapped back, the taste of blood flooding his mouth.

"_Bran…"_

His vision swam and then there was nothing but the sweet oblivion of darkness.

XXXXXX

Cain swore under his breath as the man turned to regard him. Leave it to his lover to wake up the world's worst nightmare. What the hell had Emrys been thinking? He called forth his sickle and chain without conscious thought, the cool, heavy weight of it helping to steady his nerves.

"Demon." Bran sneered, dropping Emrys' still form.

He wasn't dead. Cain bared his fangs and leaped forward, throwing himself between the two men, praying, no, _insisting_ to himself that he wasn't dead. He'd know if he was dead; the backlash of their bonding, magic, love, _something_ would tell him-it couldn't be true!

"You're fucking dead!"

"Oh ho! How quaint, do you actually think you can avenge your friend? Please, I've killed my own blood, you're nothing but an annoyance."

"I. Will. Kill. You!" Cain bellowed, flailing the chain to loop out in an elegant, lightning-fast arch.

Bran narrowed his eyes at the blade, "Bind."

Cain gasped as roots hurtled through the cracked temple floor and twisted around his chain, the sharp sickle clanking harmlessly to the ground as it was pinned. "Damn you. Die already!" he shouted, dropping the chain and reaching out with his floundering power.

Icy water streamed from his fingertips. He felt blood trickle down his tattooed arm and the sharp pain of the vines move as they too flung themselves forward, twirling with the water to stab at Bran. The dark man's eyes widened in surprised pain as a tendril snuck past his guard and pierced his shoulder. He stumbled backwards as he countered with a protective spell.

"So…my little brother mated with a filthy demon." He crooned. He dug the fingers of his right hand into the wound in his left shoulder and laughed.

"Well, this ought to be fun. I haven't finished what I set out to do back then and with the two of you around…" he hopped up the dais and drew an encircled pentagram in the air with bloody fingers, the outline smoked oily for a long moment.

Smiling at the two, Bran grinned widely when Emrys groaned and tried to move. Cain glanced at his mate and then back at the now glowing wizard.

"Welcome to the family, demon. I can't wait to kill you both." He laughed out loud as his figure shimmered and disappeared.

Cain stared at the spot for several moments before stumbling back to Emrys' side. He dropped to the ground and pulled his lover into his lap, smoothing a hand across his bloody forehead. "Gods damnit all to hell," he cursed, hands clenching as he tried to control his frustration and anger. He'd had his chance to finish Bran off for good and he'd blown it.

"Ca..in…" Emrys wheezed softly, his head lolling against Cain's stomach.

Cain grit his teeth and swore, if it took his entire life, he'd kill that sick son-of-a-bitch if it was the last thing he'd do. He'd never allow Emrys to be hurt like this again.


	9. VI: A Touch of Honor

**Chapter VI- A Touch of Honor**

Driskell looked up from his journal. The candle's light flickered for a moment and then puffed out, a thin tendril of smoke wafting up from the wick. He frowned slightly, his brows furrowing. Glancing out the leaded window panes he watched dark, angry storm clouds shadow the moon, enveloping it completely and plunging the courtyard into darkness.

Seth's bright gold eyes reflected what little light was left from his perch on the stone fence just like a cat's. Nibbling on his bottom lip he watched his son place a restraining hand on the young elemental's head and rub reassuringly. He could almost hear the mumbled words of comfort as corn-silk hair fell out of wary violet eyes. He met those eyes through the glass and nodded minutely, a single word falling from his lips like last autumn's leaves.

"_Bran."_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Cain did what he could to wrap Emrys' wounds, but he was more concerned about the blood loss his mate had suffered. By the time he'd finished shredding his last shirt into workable bandages Emrys was out cold, his skin sallow with a light sheen of sweat covering his body and his breathing labored. A cold wind whipped across the lake making him shiver. He needed to find a more secure location for them to recover and figure out their next steps.

Glancing around the temple he stood, leaving Emrys wrapped in his travel cloak, his own coat draped on top, his dark head pillowed on their bags. He stepped cautiously around the remainders of Bran's root attack, tiptoeing in some spots just to avoid touching them. There were two small arrow slit windows, one on either side of the fallen doorway, and he made for one and then the other, trying to see without being seen. He didn't know if there were any others in this cursed land, but he wasn't going to start taking chances now, not when Emrys was helpless like this.

He caught the shimmer of moonlight on the water, the wind rippling the lines of silver, tearing them in its disregard. Across the far bank he could see the hateful bridge he'd crossed to get here in the first place. He thought of trying to back track with Emrys' body limp and unresponsive and shook his head dismissively; there was no way they'd manage that. Moving to the other window he tracked a serpentine river from the lake back into the brush and nodded, he'd have to try it. He didn't know how Emrys had followed him, how he'd come to this temple or why he'd let Bran loose upon the world once again, but it felt like water had been at every fateful encounter they'd shared so far and following it now made some weird sort of cosmic sense.

Stepping closer to the window Cain glanced at the immediate surroundings and took a chance, pushing with all his weight until the door was pried open far enough he could drag enough fallen branches in to build a litter of sorts and get Emrys out of here. With the door wedged so it wouldn't fall shut again he returned to his lovers side and gingerly checked his pulse; rapid, but holding strong. He sighed and stood, tucking the cloak in around Emrys' chin as he did. He'd have to be quick; this twilight world was starting to awaken and he didn't want to bump into anything more intelligent than himself.

He snorted thinking what Emrys would have said to that thought and moved out into the surrounding foliage to find sturdy enough branches and some vines to lash them together with. Vines…glancing sideways at his arm he watched the vines with renewed interest and a twinge of wariness. These same vines that had possessed him at their mating had come to his aid when he attacked Bran. He wondered just how much he could control them; he'd have to talk to Emrys about it when he was awake…Snapping a branch in half he spun on his heel.

"Damnit all," he growled under his breath as he kicked a loose rock into the river beside him. "I couldn't do a damn thing."

He needed to learn to control his power if he was going to be able to help Emrys in the coming battle because he knew that, regardless of his desire to drag Emrys back to that cave and never come out again, his mate wouldn't be able to avoid his brother. Brother; Gods what in all the hells did he get twisted up in here? It at been over a century and Emrys didn't look much older than himself. How did that even happen?

A racking cough brought him out of his thoughts. Gathering up as many of the branches as possible he ran back to the temple. Emrys was twisted up on his side, Cain's make-shift bandages soaked through with his red blood. He dropped the branches and skidded to a stop beside Emrys, cradling the dark head against his chest he grit his teeth in anger and frustraition.

"I'll get him, Emrys, don't you worry. I'll pay him back a thousand times for the hurt he's given you."

"Cain…." Emrys gasped out, his face held a feverish blush.

Groping around in his pack Cain pulled out the last of their water and held it to his lips, their shaking making his chest tighten painfully.

"You'll be fine, it's just a scratch." He whispered, body bowed over as Emrys slipped back into the darkness of sleep. When he felt his body go limp in his hold Cain stood and dragged a hand across his eyes to clear them; he didn't have time for emotions right now.

Going to the pile of wood he bound a thick, sturdy branch across two of the longest branches and draped his cloak across them all, using flowering moon vines as lashes to keep it taut and then as gently as possible settled Emrys atop it, tucking his own jacket and bed roll around him until the man was practically cocooned inside their few belongings.

Checking the door once more he shouldered their packs and then carefully dragged the litter over the threshold, flinching every time he felt the bed shift in the soft sand. He aimed for the river, following what was little better than an animal trail. Eventually he made it to the boat house and from there saw the first true sign of civilization. A broad courtyard with a dozen two-story houses set in an encircled pentagram. A symbol of High magic, Cain knew the very layout of the community would help focus any powers on the people who lived here.

He chose a house at random and started walking, dragging the still unconscious man behind him. The house was a little apart from the others….the tip of the pentagram he thought. Perhaps it was a sign that the door had been pried from its hinges, he probably should have chosen another, but there was something about the house, about the feel of the place that called him forward, like a whisper tattered by the sigh of the breeze.

Leaving Emrys just inside the doorway he scouted the first floor, face dark and mouth set into a firm line at the twin lines of dusky red trailing from the kitchen towards the stairs. Blood. Something horrible had happened here long ago. Following the lines he stood at the base of the stairs and ran a hand over the handrail's intricate scroll pattern.

It stirred something deep within him, that part that hung somewhere in the periphery of his perception; the part that instinctively knew Emrys was awake. He glanced over his shoulder at the stairwell leading up into the darkness of the second floor as he stomped back towards the entrance. He could feel Emrys stirring and refused to leave his lover alone again. The man had a knack for getting into trouble it seemed.

Stepping out from under the awning Cain came to a stop and swore out loud. "You stupid…"

Dropping to his knees he helped Emrys sit up, his head lulling against the cool stone doorway. His green eyes were slightly unfocused and sweat beaded his upper lip, but his was conscious, and already starting to heal by the looks of things. Cain shook his head at the stupidity of the man and helped push him into a better position.

"You want to explain to me why you think sitting up when you have a hole in your belly is a good idea?"

Emrys gave him a weak smile as he looked around, the humor dying in his eyes. "Why are we here?" he gasped out, breaths ragged.

Cain glanced back at the house and shrugged. "You need to rest and heal; this place looked good, why?"

"This place…" he groaned, looking away from the open doorway and the smears of blood on the floor. "This was our house."

Something clicked, some part of Emrys' story that made him ill just thinking about it. "Shit. Emrys, I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Emrys nodded weakly, face contorted in pain as a sob threatened to rack his already wounded body.

"Bran…he's my brother. I didn't know...didn't _remember_ until I saw him there in the temple. He killed us all, the entire House of Kat'ia, left our little sister pierced by his own blade, our parents with their throats torn out…the village…. He killed us all and for what? For what?"

Gripping the thin shoulders tightly he shushed the other, "Emrys, Emrys, come on love, calm down. You'll reopen your wound. If you don't want to stay here we'll go somewhere else, but you have to calm down or you're going to die! Damnit all, I swore I wouldn't let that happen!"

Cain's voice shook with unspoken emotion. How had this man gotten so far inside his heart, so much he felt Emrys' pain like it was his own? He could feel Emrys start to hyperventilate and did the only thing that came to mind-he kissed him, hard.

Crushing Emrys against his chest, the smaller man's body arching as he pushed harder, he thrust his tongue between gasping lips and tried breathing for the both of them. At each in draw of life giving air he felt his senses overwhelmed by his mate, his touch and taste, the scent of earth and pine mixed with blood and sweat. It was a heady feeling that made him weak and strong all at once.

"Mph!"

He smiled around Emrys' tongue and stroked a hand down his lover's side until it came to rest on the swell of his ass. He pulled Emrys into his lap, loving the feel of the body trembling in his arms, pricks of claws on his back as Emrys shuddered and moaned into his mouth. He could do this forever, he thought, groaning as the lithe body shifted atop him. He could, and would, but not right now.

"Emrys…Gods I'd love nothing more than be buried in you right now, but I can't, not with you so hurt. Please love, just try and calm down until I can find us a place to rest."

"Here."

"What?"

"We'll stay here."

Cain pulled back horrified. "No! I'm not putting you through that."

"It'll be worse in the other houses, Cain and you're right, we need to rest." Emrys bowed his head against Cain's neck and sighed softly, his heart beat finally slowing to a more normal speed. Cain's touches always did that to him. He smiled slyly and dragged sharp fangs across Cain's jugular, marking him.

"What the hell?" Cain yelped, jerking back slightly.

"Just a reminder."

"Of what?" he demanded, fingers prodding the red welts.

"That you're mine, regardless of what happened here." He sobered quickly, his voice becoming a faint murmur. "Help me inside, Cain. It's time I told you about what really happened here."

Cain frowned as he gathered Emrys close and stood shakily; the man wasn't a feather. He smiled at the feel of Emrys burring his face in his the crook of his neck and stepped back inside, trying to decide where to go.

"Upstairs; second door on the left. We'll take my room, as the others…I don't want to see what's behind those doors."

"Are you sure, we could just go back to the temple?" Not that he really wanted to, the house was the more secure location, regardless of the tragedy that had befallen it.

"My room, Cain, please, I have to know. I have to see this through."

He answered with a nod and started up the steps.

Blood dripped down his arms where he held Emrys and he hastened his steps, careful not to topple them both over the edge. Eventually they stood in front of a simple wooden door, the handle an intricately carved moonflower. Awkwardly he juggled Emrys until he could get the nob turned and then prodded the door with his booted foot, stepping in to a moment, it seemed, frozen in time.


End file.
